


A Well of Sorrow

by FrankieTortTails



Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Dragon Age: Inquisition - Trespasser DLC, Dragon Age: Inquisition Quest - Sit In Judgment, F/M, Harrowing, Lyrium Withdrawal, Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-10
Updated: 2019-09-27
Packaged: 2019-10-07 20:02:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 22
Words: 66,494
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17372393
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FrankieTortTails/pseuds/FrankieTortTails
Summary: Ostwick Circle mage unwittingly becomes the Herald of Andraste and leader of the Inquisition. Burdened with living most of her life in a Circle, navigating outside during great turmoil is overwhelming.  Regardless of her new role, she knows she'll be sent back to the Circle.An ex-templar faces past traumas from the Circle while leading the Inquisition armed forces.  He attempts to quit lyrium where few before succeed.  His hopes for the future are challenged by powerful withdraws, personality changes, and physical pain.Additional material from Dragon Age Origins, Dragon Age 2, Stolen Throne, and Asunder.Chapter 1 - 20 Events from Inquisition.  Completed story.Trespasser - New.  Further chapters in works.Chapter 21 How It Should Be is Trespasser (Intro)Chapter 22 Welcome Back to the Winter PalaceThe first chapter includes a torture, which is referred to throughout the story.Spoilers.  Dedicated to my heart, Frankie.





	1. Journey to the Conclave

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Templar-Mage war spreads. The Circles fall. Ostwick Circle delegates travel to the Conclave. An attack. 
> 
> Describes a torture in first section.
> 
> Undergoing grammatical corrections. Thank you for being patient.

Kirkwall. College of Enchanters disbanded. Failed assassination attempt on the Divine. Rite of Tranquility investigated. Lord Seeker Lambert detains First Enchanters. Mages run for Andoral's Reach. Circle of Daismuid annulled. First Enchanters vote for independence. Nevarran Accord voided. Templars declare independence...and begin hunting mages.

The building chaos of three years created such unrest that Circles of Magi across Thedas started falling: most rebelled, a few dissolved. The inevitable occurred: mages fled, templars pursued, templars killed mages, mages killed templars. The violence spread across Thedas.

The Ostwick Circle stood against the chaos. Reputed as "a good Circle", moderate in temperament and loyal to the Chantry, Ostwick's First Enchanter and Knight Commander were encouraged when they received Divine Justinia's invitation to a Conclave at the Temple of Ashes. Two mages and two templars were handpicked to represent Ostwick Circle at a meeting that hopefully would bring a peaceful end to the Mage/Templar War. Twenty-four year old Evelyn Trevelyan led the group to Haven. 

Born to a Free Marches Noble family, the ten year old Evelyn Trevelyan was perfectly calm when templars arrived at her family's estate fourteen years earlier. Her unaffected behavior struck them as odd and they questioned if she actually had magic. The small girl assured them she had magic and had known for several months. Despite her cooperation the templars gagged her, shackled her hands and feet, put a hood over her head then dragged her to a waiting cart. Her Chantry loyal family refused to send "tribute" for "preferred" treatment in the Circle. She was a blight to the family name and they would have nothing to do with her. When she arrived at the Ostwick Circle, she was treated as a common born mage. 

Raised a privileged child, she resented her treatment at the Circle spurring a bitter resentment, a sharp tongue and plenty of trouble. Eventually she learned to keep her head down and mouth shut. She found refuge in scholarship and education. The First Enchanter eventually took notice of the quiet girl's intellect and sense. Evelyn was both the First Enchanter and the Knight Commander's first choice to represent Ostwick Circle at the Conclave.

The journey from the Ostwick to Haven took the party through the Free Marches toward the Port of Kirkwall. Along the base of the Vinmark Mountains a gang of rogue templars stopped their group and asked their destination. Before any of the Ostwick group answered the rogue templars attacked. The Ostwick templars were killed defending their charges. 

Evelyn, considering circumstances, kept her hands at her side rather than reach for her stave. She begged her fellow mage to do the same. Disregarded her warning, a sword through the back ended his attempt to rain fire on his attackers. Evelyn offered no resistance and was knocked unconscious.

She woke next to a fire pit. Two templars across from the fire were drinking and talking. The templar sitting next to her, the only one wearing full templar armor, noticed that she was awake. 

"You know," he said to his drinking friends, "I don't think this one is a Circle mage. She looks more like an apostate." 

The youngest agreed, "Bet you're right. Templars respect good Circle mages staying where they should but she's runnin' round like an apostate."

The templar in full gear addressed Evelyn, "Do you know what an apostate is little girl?"

Foolishly forgetting an important Circle survival rule, don't cause trouble, she answered, "An apostate is one who has turned away from the Chantry. Unlike templars who abandoned the Chantry, I am not an apostate."

Loving that she isn't holding her tongue, the templar grinned, "Oh, we have a wise one don't we. Well, you're not where you're supposed to be and THAT is what we templars call an apostate. Time we teach this one a lesson in obedience." 

The two younger templars brought her to her feet. Fear shut down her attempt to remain silent. "Please, just return me to the Circle. I'll be no trouble for you."

The two held her in front of the older templar. For the first time she noticed a burn scar below his right eye that ran toward his ear, likely from dodging a mage's fire ball. He held her chin as he explained her situation. "See there, she admits she isn't where she should be, she is an apostate. We no longer answer to the Chantry. Templars are on a holy mission to rid Thedas of every filthy apostate we find." 

Without warning his fist struck her jaw throwing her to the ground. “Get the shirt and tie her to the tree. Andraste met the fire, let's see if this one can meet the whip."

Pleas for mercy fell unheard as they dragged her to a tree. One pressed her face into the bark while the other tied her to the tree.

As the daughter of a noble family, she only knew verbal punishment. No one raised a hand, belt or stick to any Trevelyan child. At the Ostwick Circle a templar delivered her first physical punishment: a fast backhand for an unruly remark. The Chantry holds rights to a mage’s life but templars wield control and discipline. 

The first lash sliced deep into her tender skin sending a paralyzing shock across her body. Felt like all the air in the world rushed into her lungs. Her whole body froze as the second lash ripped across tender skin spreading blood across her back. She choked on air refusing to exit her lungs. 

The third she gritted her teeth. The fourth a scream issued against her will. By the seventh lash sounds from her mouth were deep guttural deformed noises that lasted to the next drop of the whip. On the tenth she involuntarily urinated. By the fifteenth her fingers ran red with blood from gripping rough bark. By twenty she stopped screaming. Eyes unable to focus, blurry figures swayed about like a dream.

From the templars' view she was a body slumping against a tree, the back bloodied, bits of flesh hanging.

End the whip or her life she prayed. The crisp crack of the whip continued. Pain seared forever into memory. Forever an apostate.

When the whip stopped she didn't notice. She didn't hear the templars screaming. She didn't understand the silence. 

She fell from the tree trunk like a rag doll. Hands picked her off the ground and wrapped her in rough cloth. She'd be dropped in a shallow grave, but she no longer cared as long as the pain ended. Mercifully, the world turned grey, then black. Her eyes shut surrendering to the Maker. 

 

  
The aroma of cooking food confused her. Eyes opened. She puzzled at a dusty dirt floor in front of her. Pain flooded across her back causing teeth to grit. A deep guttural growl woke every inch of her body. She tried to lift herself. Her body defied her wishes and she remained face down on scratchy material. 

A warm hand gently touched her arm. A soft voice spoke, “Easy, everything is okay. You're among friends. You’re safe.”

A pair of knees appeared in front of her. Floor now knees. “Where am I? Who are you?”

The knees explained, “You're in a cave, our hideout. We’re mages, like you.”

Pain, floor and knees. She didn't trust mind or eyes. Her hand touched the knee. Knee is real. “The templars? Did you rescue me?” Her hand caught a bit of cloth covering the knee, she needed to hold something real.

“The templars are dead. Technically, other apostates rescued you, brought you here. I’m treating your wounds. I’m a healer, and if there are to be introductions, that’s what everyone calls me.”

Talking distracted her from the pain. “Healer?”

His voice reassured her, “Nicknames are safer in case anyone gets caught. Lay still, I'll ease the pain.” 

She stared at a pair old leather shoes as he sent healing magic across her body. Warmth passed across the back easing the pain. This was not typical healing magic. He was a spirit healer. 

"So, who are you, besides being very unfortunate to run across rogue templars and very fortunate we found you."

“I'm Evelyn, from Ostwick Circle, I'm on my way to the Temple of Sacred Ashes for the Conclave. I need to go." 

The treatment complete, he sat on the ground so she could see him, head to toe. He was more than thirty years old. Unkempt brownish blond hair, short bushy beard hadn’t a decent cut in probably forever. His old mage coat covered some very worn clothes. His eyes were gentle and kind. 

A wrecked body prevented her impulse to grab hold and drag him close. Her hand settled for a fist curled around the edge of a coat.

“You can't travel. I've closed the wounds properly but they need more healing. They'll tear open if you travel too soon.”

“How soon can I travel?” 

“Couple of days. If you stayed another week I could reduce those scars. Bastard tore up your back: Layers of damage. That much scarring takes time to heal properly,” he said. "You rest and I will be back with food and water.” 

"No!" Panic exploded and she clutched his coat tighter, "Please don't leave." 

"You're still in shock. You're trying to ground yourself, reconnect. I understand, I was tortured. Torture isn't just about pain, it's meant to leave you helpless, isolated. It's terrifying. Breaks you from safe connections, leaves you vulnerable. That's how it works." He knows very well how that feels. He was patient. He waited for her to let go of the coat, he let her choose.

Her hand reluctantly let go. "Come back." He's right. Alone feels terrifying. 

Two days later, her physical wounds safely healed, she prepared to leave. Her cave dwelling friends provided her with traveling clothes and provisions. Healer sat with her and shared a final morning meal. “Still heading to the Conclave?”

“I'm not going back to the Circle, but I can't survive out there alone. The Conclave offers sanctuary to mages who attend so I'll be safe there. My family has connections to the Ostwick's Chantry so there is a chance my brothers will be there. I can't hope my parents will take me back but maybe one of my brothers will help. What about you? Ever thought of leaving here? Go to the Conclave with me.”

He smiled at her kind offer but his eyes hinted a regret. “Some of us will always be apostates. Criminals wanted by the Chantry. Executed if caught or worse, made tranquil, a mindless, unemotional mage. Some things cannot be forgiven. Healing is my penance. Maybe I help you so you can save the world.”

"Save the world, huh?" That made her laugh. He made her laugh often in the last few days. Free from the Circle she felt no restraints from investing in a friendship. In her brief stay they grew close. She wished he would go with her. 

"What’s wrong? What is this very serious look on your face?” He asked. 

“Ostwick's reputation as a _good Circle_ was a front. Things happened there just like other Circles. It was not a home to me. I lived in an unending limbo. I am so grateful that you took care of me. You made me feel safe and welcome. I've not felt that way in a long time." 

"I'm curious, if you don't mind me asking, how did you survive in the Circle?" He asked.

"I did everything wrong at first: complained, bickered, argued, pushed. Templars pushed right back. This mage, a year ahead of me, was about the same. He defied everyone. He disappeared one night but a few weeks later he was working in the library, and he was tranquil. 

"I'm good at sizing up what's right in front of me, reading a room. What happen to him drew a clear picture of where I was headed. I had to change to survive. I learned to be 'small' and unnoticed. I stuck my nose in a book and never looked up. Eventually, the right person, the First Enchanter noticed me, encouraged my studies. I gained his trust, became his scribe, record keeper, helper: I found a protector. What about you, how did you survive?"

"Besides a talent for escaping, I learned that sexual favors go a long way in the Circle." He replied with a small smirk

"Great maker! Not a path I could take, I knew mages who did and would never fault them. I avoided Templars who looked for those kind of favors, I just couldn't... didn't want...well, let's just say I have this ridiculous hope to fall in love someday. It's stupid, I know."

"I don't think so. I was in love. It was wonderful. Our time was brief, but it meant everything."

"What happen?"

"I escaped. He did nothing wrong but love me. They punished him, they made him tranquil."

Her response burned with venom, "Maker, I hate them! The Chantry, the Circle, templars. How are they allowed to say I can't love someone? Who gave them the right to say I have no future? I hate them for making us believe it’s true.”

"Don't dwell on what you can't have. You have an opportunity to get out there. If things don't work out, you can always come back to us."

"Do I get to know your real name?”

“It’s a name you don't need to know.” His chin scrunched, regretful to say that.

“Someone knows it.” She replied.

“Perhaps. Parents. The templars who dragged me to the Circle. I refused to tell anyone. My little act of defiance. My new name carries a price. I won't have trouble fall on those around me.” He explained.

“What if I want to send a message? Be nice to hear from you now and again.” 

“Don't. We can't. I'll keep this memory of you to cherish. This must be like the Circle. This was brief, with a time limit. It began when you found me and it ends when you leave.” 

“Hard not to worry about you.” she said. 

“Don't worry about me. Worry about you.” He reached out and hugged her, held her tight. Once again, he was loosing someone special. He sent her on her way with the hope she'd be okay.


	2. The Wrath of Heaven

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Conclave at the Temple of Ashes. Field report from the Temple of Ashes. A survivor.

Evelyn's spirits lifted as she rode into the little village of Haven, gateway to the Temple of Ashes. Haven was once occupied by a religious cult who worshiped a dragon they believed was Andraste reborn. Cultist concealed the Temple of Ashes and it's precious secret, the Andraste's ashes, the prophet whose teachings were the foundation for the Chantry, the dominant religion of Thedas. Once found by the Chantry, the Temple served as a holy pilgrimage for the faithful. Today, in this time of crisis, it was a place of hope. 

In an attempt to settle the bitter war between templars and mages, the Lord Seeker agreed to Divine Justinia's Conclave at the Temple of Ashes, a peaceful gathering and a hope to end hostilities. The Temple was neutral grounds and all attendees received sanctuary. Evelyn was pessimistic of an agreement, but she was hopeful for a new life.

The Conclave opened the night before Evelyn arrived. Along side other participants, she walked the long pilgrimage from Haven's Penitents Crossing with to the Temple. In the main hall, Evelyn asked "greeters" if any representatives from Ostwick Chantry or the Trevelyan family had registered. One greeter remembered a Trevelyan asking for directions to the library wing not too long ago. 

She climbed the stairwell to the library. The first hall was eerily silent except for a deep bellowing voice coming from behind a closed door. She thought to investigate but she spotted a figure reading a book down the hall. She waited for her eyes to adjust to the low light. Even after twelve years and from that distance her heart was sure it was her brother, Edward, sitting outside the library reading a book.

Evelyn started to call Edward when a panic cry came from the door next to her demanded her attention. A woman called desperately for help. With no thought except someone needed help, she opened the door and stepped into… 

Evelyn's next clearest memory was falling hard on the ground.

 

Field Report, Supplemental – Ruins, Temple of Ashes  
Submitted by Cassandra Pentaghast  
Previous report stated no survivors found in the temple ruins. A second sweep (two hours later?) soldiers found a single survivor in the central court ruins. Woman, unknown identity. Condition is…a mess is best I can describe. Sent to Haven for immediate healing.

According to witnesses (2 soldiers close by, 4 others farther away) claim the survivor emerged from what is believed is the original Fade Rift then collapsed unconscious. The two closest soldiers insisted a second person (possibly a woman?) 'pushed' the survivor out of the very large Fade Rift. 

Very alarming is the survivor’s left hand. It glows an intense green sparkling light…some kind of magical energy? Note: green light is same color as the Breach (related?) -- serious, I think this is important. Keep a close watch on woman...she is not to be trusted.

That apostate elf, Solas, requested to look at the survivor’s hand. Elf seems very knowledgeable about this Breach (his name for massive hole in sky). He believes the Breach and the survivor’s Anchor (his name for green thing on her hand) are related (anyone think this suspicious?) 

Important note: This Solas appeared very soon after the Temple of Ashes exploded. He claims he wasn't attending the Conclave, he was “in the area.” (so why is he here?) His knowledge of the Fade, that he references the hole in the sky as "the Breach", and calls the mark on her hand an "Anchor" (what does THAT mean) seems convenient. The elf is cordial and friendly yet he is an apostate in the middle of the Mage-Templar war. He walks right up to us and offers help. Seems very suspicious. But this may just be my opinion.  
Cassandra  
Copies to Leliana, Cullen, Josephine  
Note: I am not good at writing. Can someone else do these?

.

Seeker Pentaghast and Sister Liliana walked down into the Chantry’s holding cells. The survivor found at the ruins was awake and they had questions. Word of the survivor was rapidly spreading. People were angry and pointed the blame squarely at her. 

Soldiers held their swords at the shackled prisoner kneeling on the floor. Cassandra looked over the woman...she didn't appear evil but looks can be misleading. Commander Rutherford confirmed she was a mage and the mark on her hand emanated an unusual magic. He warned the prisoner could be concealing a demon within but the Commander has history with possessed mages and may be a bit paranoid. 

Cassandra and Leliana agreed the woman an apostate escaped from a Circle. While on the run she ran into the wrong people: Horrific scars covered her back; no doubt someone flogged her with a whip. Small guess who would torture an apostate. Fortunate she found a spirit healer. No other method produced such good healing. 

The survivor glanced frightfully at the two women silently observing her. She'd been awake a few hours and no one spoke to her or told her what was going on. When the strange green mark on her palm crackled she cried out in pain. 

“Who are you?” The dark hair woman demanded of her. 

“Evelyn, my name is Evelyn from the Circle of Magi in Ostwick. I was sent to the Conclave.” She noticed that the dark hair woman wore Seekers of Truth armor. Both mages and templars feared Seekers. It was never good news when a Seeker was present.

The red haired woman jumped at her, “Ostwick? You lie! You escaped! We have word the Circle fell. There were deaths. You're an apostate.”

The strange green mark on her hand came to life crackling and sparkling, pulsing a green light. The pain was even worse and she cried out again. When the crackling subsided, the Seeker grabbed her left hand and demanded, “Explain this.”

Her eyes grew wide as the pain lingered. “I can’t.”

The Seeker wasn't letting up. “Tell me what happen at the Conclave. Think hard. Your life may depend on it.”

Evelyn lowered her head trying to think, “I don’t know. It was dark. Something was chasing me. There was a woman. That’s all I remember.”

"A woman?" The red head woman asked. 

The Seeker grew impatient, “The Mark on your hand is killing you. There is a chance that, whatever that is, can affect the Breach and in turn stabilize your mark. Help us. This is a chance to redeem yourself.” 

“Yes. If I can help, if this thing can help.” She had no idea what she just agreed to do. 

"I am Cassandra and this is Leliana." Cassandra pulled her to her feet, “I'm taking you to the ruins.” 

"The ruins?" A pit deep in her stomach warned the situation was more precarious than three rogue templars and a whip. 


	3. Path to the Ruins

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A survivor. Trip to the ruins. Attempt to close the Breach. Field Report.

A prisoner. Magical mark embedded in hand. A Seeker of Truth. Conclave explosion. The Breach. A chance to be redeemed. No matter how she much she tried nothing the two women said made sense. When she stepped outdoors she witnessed dark chasm nearly filling the sky swirling dangerously, clouds gravitating around it, lightening shooting from its center. She looked to Cassandra for answers.

"We call it the Breach. It is a massive tear into the world of demons. It is growing. Eventually it will swallow the world. It is the end of the world as we know it." Cassandra told her.

This, Evelyn thought, is worse than anything she imagined. 

Cassandra guided them through a gathering of people who glared and hissed at her. Evelyn moved closer to Cassandra. The Seeker grew very irritated, “What is the matter with you?”

Evelyn backed off slightly, “I’ve lived around templars since I was ten. I know when I'm being watched. These people don’t like me. Your dungeon guards tried very hard not to stab me.”

“The people are afraid. They believe you blew up the Temple of Ashes, that you killed Divine Justinia.” 

Her feet ceased all movement. “What!? The Divine is dead? The Temple blew up? ME!?” She began to feel very unwell.

“An explosion destroyed the Temple of Ashes and created the Breach in the sky. The Divine is dead. Everyone at the Conclave dead. The people need someone to blame. I can promise there will be a trial.” Cassandra replied.

Once out of Haven’s grounds, Cassandra cut Evelyn’s bindings. “Spirits and demons escaped through the Breach so the path is dangerous. It is possible I cannot protect you.”

Dangerous was an understatement. Spirits attacked as they walked up a hill. Evelyn stood paralyzed. 

People think all Circle mages skilled magical fighters, masters of spirits and demons, but that wasn't entirely true. Yes, mages are trained in battle magic. For most it's book knowledge. Not many have real battle magic experience. What templar wants to watch over a room of twenty fire mages who could collectively reduce a man to charcoal in two seconds? Better to watch five fire mages and fifteen theoretical magic students.

Outside the Harrowing, her experience with spirits and demons was books. As for battle magic, she had zero experience but she could warm bath water and cool wine. She was a scholar, not a battle mage. 

Cassandra skillfully eliminated several spirits. Things took a bad turn when a third spirit took notice of the wide eye defenseless mage. One hit from the spirit and Evelyn decided it was fight or die. She spotted a large rock nearby and she threw it at the spirit. Okay, quick thinking but as suspected, spirits don’t like getting hit with rocks. She ran for cover until she tripped on a tree branch. Cassandra fought another spirit unaware of her prisoner's predicament.

She scrambled on her knees looking for another rock or stick, something. Reaching over the branch toward a rock, the putrid smell of human decay smacked her nose. Great maker, it was the rotting corpse of a dead mage…mage because in death it clutched a stave. She grabbed the stave hoping for an ice element base to freeze the corpse and stop the odor. Once on her feet she turned right into Cassandra pointing a sword. 

“Drop it!” Her eyes were deadly steel. 

Don’t mess with the Seeker. “You said you can’t always defend me.”

“You're right,” Cassandra sheathed her sword. “I should remember you agreed to help.” 

Farther up the path they ran into a group fighting spirits near a Fade Rift. Cassandra plunged into the thick of the fighting. Evelyn got next to a dwarf with a deadly and spectacular cross bow-thingamajigger. 

She gave her newly acquired stave a spin but all she got was a magical sputter. Yep, stave was broken. She smashed the head of an approaching demon with the useless stave and her dwarf friend followed up with a bolt from the deadly cross bow. Dead demon by bash and bolt.

An elf emerged from the fighters aggressively yelling at her to use the Mark. She looked at him with furrowed brows as she had no idea what he was talking about. Before she asked, he grabbed her left hand and shoved it toward the Rift. A green energy exploded from her palm connecting with to the Rift. Everyone watched in wonder. Evelyn clentched her teeth from the pain. When the light show ended the Fade Rift disappeared. She wanted to slug the elf but then everyone began cheering. 

The elf, aware he had just violated her person, became passive and explained his actions. "I theorized the Anchor would interact with the Fade Rift. By directing its energy to the Rift, it sealed shut. In theory, the Anchor could close the massive Breach in the sky." Cassandra looked pleased at his explanation. 

Dandy, Evelyn thought. This day gets weirder and weirder. She joked because if she didn’t she would break from the stress. 

More oddities in a very strange day that was quickly adding up to be a very dangerous situation: Solas, a handsy elf full of theories, and Varric, a dwarf with fabulous chest hair and a unique crossbow named Bianca. Besides her Harrowing, she couldn’t think of a stranger day in her life.

 

  
Cassandra’s group arrived at a forward camp and located Leliana discussing the situation with a Chancellor Roderick who immediately turned his attention to Evelyn. 

“This is the survivor? I want her arrested and prepared for transportation to Val Royeaux for immediate execution.”

Evelyn found she had little self-control, “What no last meal? Is this because I am a mage or is it the incriminating green glowing hand? Genius! The world is ending and a mage is to blame. Call the templars!” 

Cassandra ignored Evelyn and growled at the man, “The Chancellor is a glorified clerk, he gives no orders here.”

Ignoring the Chancellor, a debate resumed about which route to take to the temple: The mountain path or charge with the soldiers? The discussion quickly deadlocked.

Cassandra looked at Evelyn “What do you think?”

Evelyn was astonished, “Me? You want my opinion?”

Solas gently interjected, “You have the Mark, you should decide.”

Evelyn looked at the group. Fourteen years in the circle taught her that mages should never lose their cool but at the moment, the contradictions, threats to her life, the possibility of prison, a trial....she just snapped. “Exactly how did I go from a despicable, Divine-killing apostate to the smartest person in the room? I have the Mark so I'm the best judge? I’m not from here! I don’t know the area! But I should decide? I still don't know what the hell is going on!”

Cassandra glared at her. “Fine. We charge with the soldiers. Let’s move, things will get worse the longer it takes to reach the ruins.”

When they arrived at the temple's ruins a Rift blocked the entrance. Cassandra’s group joined with the soldiers just holding their own against the demons. Evelyn snuck around to reach the Rift and any demon drawing near got smacked with her broken stave. Between the additional fighters and Evelyn sneak and beat strategy, they won the battle and sealed the Breach.

A senior officer, who glared at her like she was an abomination, spoke with Cassandra as things calmed down. “Thanks for the intervention, we were barely holding our own against the demons.” 

Cassandra put her hand on Evelyn’s shoulder, “Don’t thank me, this is our prisoner’s doing. Commander Rutherford is in charge of our soldiers.” 

Commander Rutherford glared suspiciously at the survivor. A mage. The Maker sends us a mage? A mage with a magical Mark of unknown power. Is this a test? Must I face yet another corrupt mage? His stomach tightened. Andraste guide me, I cannot fail again. “I hope what they say about you is true because we lost a lot of good people today.”

She looked at the handsome but disagreeable man and then at the Mark on her hand, “You’re not the only one. If it doesn’t Chancellor Roderick is sending me straight to the hangman’s noose.” She looked back at the Commander who was still glaring at her. Is it my hair, she wondered? After she left the apostates she cut all her hair off with a knife to look more like a peasant. It probably looked horrid.

Cassandra guided her by the shoulder, “We must get to the temple. There is no time to spare. We must close that rift.”

“Or die trying?” Evelyn asked.

“Let’s hope it doesn’t come to that.” Cassandra answered.

 

Field Report Sealing the Breach  
Ruins at Temple of Ashes  
Solas observed the massive Rift was improperly closed. It had to be re-opened so it could be safely sealed. 

Per Solas’ instructions, Evelyn used the Mark re-opened the rift. A pride demon emerged. Archers took first shot to lower the demon’s defenses. Several people were lost in the battle before the demon was killed. Evelyn closed the Fade Rift successfully. The Breach in the sky is stable, but not entirely sealed. The Survivor's Anchor needs more power to close the Breach completely. 

According to Solas, the Breach is stable as is Evelyn’s Anchor. 

As the Rift sealed it sent an energy wave throwing everyone across the grounds. Regretfully, Evelyn was closest to the Rift and was hurled into a wall. She is alive but unconscious. 

Important Note: Our arrival at the breach triggered visions from before the explosion. Solas says the visions we saw are memories or echoes of what happened, the Fade mirrors recent events of people in the memory. I believe we witnessed the Divines' memories before the explosion.

Fade Memories Witnessed  
A dark, deep voiced, unseen man spoke about the "hour of our victory." We see the Divine restrained with magic. The dark man called the Divine “the sacrifice.”

The Divine called for help. A door opened. Responding to the call, our survivor entered the room. The dark man called her an intruder. He orders the intruder to be killed. 

Reactions  
According to what we witnessed, Evelyn entered the room after the Divine’s assault. An unseen male figure is responsible for entrapping the Divine. Evelyn responded to the Divines' call for help.

Somehow, by the explosion or other intervention the impossible happen when Evelyn was thrown into the Fade. Solas is very concerned. The last time a human entered into the fade the blight was released. 

Personal Note from Cassandra  
My faith tells me Andraste guided Evelyn to the Divine’s side. I believe Andraste protected Evelyn from the explosion by sending her into the Fade. I believe Andraste returned her from the Fade to warn us of coming dangers and bestowed the Anchor as a weapon against the coming evil.  
(Yes, I insisted my personal opinion recorded in this report. Many people believe as I do so it is important to mention.)  
Sister Leliana  
Copies to Cassandra, Cullen and Josephine


	4. The Herald

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Herald of Andraste. Sent to the Hinderlands. Fighting between rogue templars and apostates. Meeting Mother Gisselle. Hinderland Field Report. Cassandra is the Herald's Handler.

Evelyn woke up in a strange bed. She was dressed in a strange tan outfit with decorative rivets. Nice waking up in a comfortable bed wearing clean clothes, she thought, but the hand resting across her chest still glowed green. 

A young elf girl carrying wood walked into the room startling Evelyn who in turn startled the young woman who dropped wood all over the floor.

“Where am I? What’s going on?” Evelyn asked the young elf.

Wide eyed the young girl replied like a child caught stealing bread, “They say you closed the breach. You saved us all. Cassandra wants to see you. At once!” 

“Is there a trial or will they send me back to the Circle?”

“I don’t know anything about that. Cassandra is in the Chantry with Chancellor Roderick. She said at once!” The girl couldn’t decide if she should flee or pick up the wood.

“It's okay. I'm Evelyn. What’s your name?”

The girl stopped fussing with the wood, “Cecilia, your Worship.”

“Worship is your last name?” ...or did she really address me as 'your worship'?

“Yes…I mean no, I mean you’re Your Worship. I’m just Cecilia.”

Evelyn tried to reassure her, “Thanks, Cecilia. Don’t worry about the wood. I’ll tell Cassandra you told me right away.”

Cecilia backed from the room like she was leaving a royal chamber. 

Evelyn looked around. The cabin's not a dungeon. She hadn’t slept on the ground or a pile of hay but damn if she could figure out what was going on. She tested the door and found it unlocked. She peeked outside but saw no guards.

Bravely she stepped out the door only to find herself in another strange situation. People were lined up along the front of the cabin and down the path. Some looked at her in awe, others stared with their mouths open. Some prayed, a few knelt as she stepped forward. 

This was very disturbing. Could this be connected to the young lady addressing me as 'your worship? Today things were very, very different. Not a templar in sight so get your big girl britches moving. She cautiously walked through the people. No directions needed as they line the path up to the Chantry. 

Their whispers made no sense: “That’s the Herald of Andraste.” “Why did the Seeker have her in chains?” “She saved us all.”

Are these the same people who just recently threatened to run her through with a sword? Concern built in her chest. 

Outside the Chantry, a line of chancellors and mothers stood before the door. They parted as she approached letting her enter. 

Inside she followed loud angry voices to a closed door. “This sounds like my party,” she thought as she opened the door. 

Cassandra and Leliana were arguing with Chancellor Roderick as she entered. Roderick demanded she be arrested and sent to Val Royeaux for trial. She felt oddly relieved that, at the very least, Chancellor Roderick still wanted her dead. Everyone else was totally mad. 

Leliana and Cassandra reassured her that she had stabilized the breach with her mark. 

“Does that mean I am not under suspicion anymore?” she asked.

Chancellor Roderick cut in, “It most certainly does not.”

“I believe she is not guilty,” Cassandra said.

"Then exactly what do you plan to do?!" Chancellor Roderick demanded.

Cassandra slammed a large book on the table. “This is a writ from Divine Justinia officially reconstructing the Inquisition. After the Lord Seeker voided the Nevarran Accord and the templars declared independence, the Divine tasked the Inquisition to investigate the growing discord. By her orders, we’ve operated as back-up if her plans for peace failed. Now that she's gone, we officially step into that place: We will find a way to close the breach, we will find those responsible, and we will restore order.” 

Holy crap, Evelyn thought, couldn't anticipate that. 

Cassandra turned to her, “The breach remains and the anchor is the only hope to close it. We need your help. Will you agree to stay and help?”

She looked at Cassandra’s extended hand, “Wait, first I am a prisoner, then I killed the divine. Somehow I have this mark that closes the breach and fade rifts. Chancellor Roderrick wants me dead but you say I'm innocent. You do understand I am a bit...confused. If I stay and help what happens afterwards? Will I be sent back to the Circle?” 

“I cannot say. Few Circles still stand. For now, we face graver issues. You stay with us.”

The cabin's better than a dungeon or the Circle. She shook Cassandra’s hand, “I’ll stay. To help. For now.” 

. . 

Evelyn was dizzy with thoughts. A hole in the sky was trying to destroy the world. Now there is this Inquisition. Chancellor Roderick believes she killed the Divine and wants her executed. Cassandra called her the 'Herald of Andraste, others call her 'Your Worship'. Witnesses are telling everyone that Andraste pushed her out of the fade. Nothing sounded more absurd. 

This was turning out to be like the Year of Hell, just like her first year at the Circle. She could barely hold her temper or keep her mouth shut and it was getting her further into trouble. 

Everything was too strange! She headed to her cabin when Varric, the dwarf with the deadly crossbow, invited her to chat by the fire. She needed a friendly chat.

Varric looked around like someone was spying on him. He leaned closer, “Now that Cassandra is out of range how are you holding up?”

“I’m not!” Evelyn replied a bit loud and without hesitation.

“You go from being the most wanted person in Thedas to the leader of the faithful and our only hope. Most people would try to stretch that out to more than one day. I’ve written enough tragedies to know where this one is going. You might want to run at your first chance.”

She plopped down next to the fire, “It's on my list. There may be a trial, or I could be sent to a Circle. I may just hang. This is not a case of no luck, or bad luck but having the strangest luck ever.” 

Varric fought next to her at the ruins so she asked hesitantly, “Did you or anyone notice I don’t know how to fight, magic or sword? I don't know which end of a sword to hold, or what part of a person kills quickest. They threw me in the middle of a bunch of demons!”

Varric gave her a half smile, “That explains the skilled demon head bashing. Sorry, kid.” 

Evelyn scowled, “Kid?”

“Never mind. Kid isn’t it.” 

“Maybe I should run but there is this rogue templar problem.” She looked at him, “Know where I can get a horse?”

She's amusing he decided. He pointed to her head, “Been meaning to ask, who cut your hair?” 

Yep, hair was embarrassing. "I did. Part of a clever disguise to evade templars. Figured they were looking for a woman. Who’d knew male apostates were on the run too?” 

“One of the ladies in the tavern is fairly good with scissors. Let me introduce you.”

She appreciated the small kindness, “Thank you, Varric.”

“No problem, Rags.”

Again, puzzled, she asked, “What?”

He waved her off. “Just ignore me.”

“Sort of impossible with all that...chest…and hair. I would know, I have a thing for...chests. There’s coin there, you could charge women to touch. Never mind. Ignore me.” 

He loved her sarcasm, “No problem, Snarky.”

“Snarky? Can’t help myself, sarcasm makes scary things feel smaller: you know, ten years under the templars…well, not literally under, lucky me." She joked. 

“The greater the threat the bloodier the sarcasm. Nice. Snarky works, for now.” 

“Nice. Got any problems with mages?" she asked.

He thought for a second, “Oh, I do, and Seekers, templars, and even nobles get on my nerve occasionally. Get past the magic, armor and attitude, most people are pretty nice. You met Curley, right?”

“Curley?”

“Cullen Rutherford, our golden hair commander. There's a chest you should investigate. We met in Kirkwall during all the trouble: Chantry explosion, Circle collapse, the Knight-Commander melted down…literally, mind and body, in that order. It’s a long story, but in short he made one very smart decision that probably saved his life and slightly lessened the whole Kirkwall disaster. Since then he's hell bent on playing martyr until he atones for his sins. Tell you about it one day.” 

“Kirkwall. That was the start of a long series of events that made an already uncomfortable life in the Circle unbearable. All travel passes cancelled, city visitation ended, communication with family stopped....privileges I never had any way. Ostwick was ready to blow up…figuratively. I left just before an apprentice killed Lydia, a Senior Enchanter. Little did I know I'd end up in the bright little village of Haven hovering between the hangman’s noose and sainthood.” 

Varric beamed at her, “I love it. Glowing optimism, beauty and sarcasm. We’re going to get along just great, my friend. Let’s get a drink, I know this real nice tavern on the other side of my tent.”

. 

The Inquisition  
Cassandra and Leliana introduced her to Josephine Montilyet, the Inquisition's ambassador. Josephine fussed over Evelyn’s Herald status. 

Exactly who did they think she was? “I don't know anything about this Herald. I have no idea what’s going on.”

Leliana explained, “We can’t say what put you in the Conclave that day, but you survived and the mark on your hand has power over rifts. The Inquisition needs that mark to close the breech. ” 

Cassandra added, “People say that Andraste herself gave you the mark and sent you out of the rift to help us.”

Evelyn countered, “We need to talk about that. I have no idea how I got this mark but I assure you I'm not this Herald of Andraste, never got the memo. Other people are far more qualified to be your Herald so I have to believe that Andraste somehow mistook me for the chosen or perhaps I got in the way.”

Josephine explained, “The Inquisition isn’t officially saying you're the Herald of Andraste. Word is spreading and people already believe. The Inquisition needs influence and the anchor has power and so does the Herald of Andraste: power to persuade people, the power to give hope. The Inquisition can use that power to get things done.”

“Too bad I am not the Herald of Andraste.” Evelyn grumbled. 

Josephine continued, “That people believe caught the attention of a certain Chantry sister who asked to speak specifically with the Herald of Andraste. We are sending you to the Hinderlands to speak with her. You will find her helping the refugees.”

“Just to speak with her?” she asked.

Josephine answered, “Yes, all you have to do is speak with her. Listen to what she says.”

Leliana asked, “Will the Herald be safe?”

Cassandra stepped in, “I will go with her.”

“I'll do whatever it takes to put things back and close up the sky,” she promised, “Eventually people will notice that your Herald of Andraste is a mage.”

 

  
Cassandra sent Evelyn to the training yard to speak with Commander Rutherford about Scout Harding and the Inquisition's camp in the Hinderlands. First time they met he glared at her the entire time. Today he seemed a whole other person: enthusiastic and upbeat. Despite his moodiness and that somehow she had offended him, they would be working together so she would try to get along with him.

Before she greeted him or asked anything he boasted about new recruits who were showing up without any recruitment efforts. He caught her off guard when he addressed her directly, “None made quite the entrance you did.” 

What was he talking about? She was told she fell from the fade and then passed out. “It wasn’t my choice.” 

“I’d been worried if it was,” he responded. 

The Commander abruptly changed the subject. "Cassandra recruited me from the Kirkwall Circle where I served as Knight-Captain of the templars. I was there during the mage uprising. I saw firsthand the devastation it caused.”

“Makers breath, you’re a templar!?” She blurted out too loudly. Why had no one mentioned this? Her breathing quickened because, well, he's a templar. The scars across her back began to tingle. She avoided all the templars in camp giving them a wide berth...out of Smite range.

“Was. Was a templar. When Cassandra offered me a position I left the templars to join the cause. Is that a problem?” The Commander sounded cross. 

“I don’t know. Do you have a problem with a mage turned apostate turned Herald of Andraste and ultimately may be hung by the Chantry?” Her heart beat a little too quickly. Shit, he's angry. Don’t be an idiot. 

“If you asked me a few years ago….,” He caught himself, “Of course not. Do you have an issue with templars?” 

“Yes.” She blurted before thinking. Oops. “I mean, it’s been a rough few years between mages and templars but I’m sure there’s common ground,” ...and the more miles apart the better.

“Well, good,” His anger faded, “Cassandra sought a solution to the chaos. Now it seems we face far worse.”

“Oh, you mean the Breach.” Good guess, girl. This is going very poorly, she thought. Quit acting strange or at least not stupid. Get back on topic, “I must have this mark for a reason.” 

“Provided we can secure aid, but I’m confident we can. The Chantry lost control of both templars and mages.” His face was animated, passionate, “Now they argue over a new Divine while the Breach remains. The Inquisition could act where the Chantry cannot. Our followers would be part of that. There’s so much we can do. I can be…" He broke off, catching himself. “You probably didn’t come here for a lecture.”

Oh, geez, he was handsome -- you're staring, Evelyn. Doesn't matter, he’s a templar, act interested, nonchalant and charming. “No, but if you have one prepared I would be glad to hear it.” How ridiculous did that sound? He'll Smite you. She forced a mage-is-no-threat-to-you-oh-scary-templar smile. It's a stupid smile.

The Commander chuckled and smiled back. “Another time perhaps.” 

She's a complete idiot and wished to make a hasty get-away. He stuttered like he lost his chain of thought then decided nothing more need be said and went back to work. 

Great, now he’s uncomfortable. Don’t poke a templar in the eye. She willed herself to breathe before anyone noticed her standing there. 

She composed herself only to realize she had forgotten something. Shit, what was I supposed to ask him? 

 

The Hinderlands  
Who was at fault, they didn’t know, but between Evelyn not speaking up and nobody noticing, her lack of skill on the battlefield nearly led to disaster. 

In route to Mother Giselle at the Crossroads, Evelyn, Cassandra, Solas and Varric walked into a group of templars and apostates trying to kill each other. Neither the templars nor apostates recognized or cared about the Inquisition. Everyone tried to kill everyone else. 

As a crazed apostate knocked Evelyn down then set her clothes afire, she swore if she lived she'd have words with Cassandra. Solas hurled the offending apostate across the field. He doused Evelyn with an ice spell to put out the fire. He stayed by her side until they arrived in the village in one piece. 

Cassandra, Varric and Solas cleared out the Crossroads of templars and apostates. To their relief, Mother Giselle was safe tending to the wounded. 

Mother Giselle was pleased to meet Evelyn. She confirmed the Chantry’s split opinion over the Inquisition and the Herald of Andraste. She suggested capitalizing on the split by pushing a few opinions to “maybe the Inquisition isn’t so bad” side. She agreed to go to Haven to advise the Inquisition. 

It was late when Cassandra got them back to camp. Cassandra noticed that Evelyn, although calm and friendly with Mother Giselle, steamed with anger all the way to the camp. 

Evelyn confronted Cassandra when they arrive. “Are you trying to get me killed? You said we were here to TALK to Mother Giselle, not FIGHT! People attacked me with swords and magic! If I knew I’d be wearing armor or something. My jacket just keeps me warm, or did before it got fire-baked, it’s not made of silverite!” 

Evelyn was unrestrained, “If the Herald of Andraste is so precious why toss me into the middle of a battle field? I told everyone and their mabari hound I had no battle magic skills. Didn't you notice? I found this stave on a dead mage. It misses its previous owner because it doesn’t shoot ice, it shoots tears!”

With that a shaken Evelyn quickly walked straight for her tent. She threw herself on her bedroll and covered herself under a blanket. 

Her tent remained quiet until she heard steps outside. 

“It’s Solas, may I speak with you?”

There was no answer. 

“Are you okay, Herald?” He asked gently.

“Not speaking to anyone who doesn’t know my name. Elf.” Yep, not pulling punches.

“Evelyn.” He said gently.

“Come in, Solas. Forgive me for calling you elf. Horrid of me. I’m just upset.”

Solas stepped inside the tent. Except for her boots, she was covered by a blanket. She's unexpected, he thought. A human picking up the anchor. A human entering the Fade physically. “As opposed to knife eared?”

“Segret, the merchant in Haven, right? He called Cecilia that while I was standing right there! I almost punched him in the mouth. At least I feel badly about being rude and mean. People who are asses really tick me off. Sorry.”

“You have a blanket pulled over your head.” He observed.

“Is that rhetorical or inquiry?" Solas was smarter than people realized. She saw that most people either ignored him or treated him poorly. He had a sophistication above most folk and he rose above any ill treatment. 

“Okay. Why is a blanket pulled over your head?” He clarified.

She was honest, “I was rude and purposely mean. Justifies suffocation. I'm...things are just crazy, really weird shit’s happening. The world is coming to an end and I should be grateful the Inquisition wants me. I’m trying to adjust. Not handling it so well.” She pushed the blanket aside and sat up. “I apologize. You're here for a reason, not to hear me complain. What can I do for you, Solas?”

He continued a kindly elf persona, “Actually, I came here to do you a…I came to offer help.” 

He almost said 'a favor'. He's careful with his words. That's interesting, “Oh?”

He pulled a stave off his back, handed it to her, “This is a Magister Stave, cold elemental damage. I think the cold suits you.” he said, the last pointedly.

Evelyn suddenly smiled, “Was that a pun?”

“I don’t pun.” He replied with no change in tone.

“It’s my first smile of the day, Solas. Please don’t take that from me.”

“Fine. Pun.” With that he gave her a nod and an impossible smile. “If you would allow, we should set a time to review battle magic. I believe your mark will assist in channeling magic. It may prove an advantage on the field.” 

What makes him believe the mark could assist her with magic? She accepted the stave and looked it over, “Your knowledge of magic and the fade beats anyone I've ever met.”

“My knowledge of magic is far beyond what any circle mage knows. Elves don’t share magic secrets with shemlen.” He watched her with the stave, observing her carefully, waiting for the reaction. Does she watch him? Has he done something to draw her attention? She had a clarity of reason he's rarely seen. Yes, she's had trouble adjusting, but she was locked up in a circle for fourteen years then dropped in the middle of a maelstrom. Over the last week he's noted her ability to see things other people miss: motivations, hidden agendas, connections. She was clever. 

“Solas, you sassed me.” A smile returned.

“I would never sass such a delicate flower as yourself.” Solas replied in perfect deadpan. He needs to be careful around her.

“You’ve made my day, Solas. Thank you. How about at first light?” 

At first light, Solas took her in hand teaching her battle level fire, ice and lightening spells. He sent her off to practice on various wildlife that wondered near the camp and by noon she had a stockpile of ram meat and furs. 

After mid-day, Evelyn spoke to Captain Whittle overseeing the Crossroad's refugee camp. Whittle handed her of list of desperately needed items for the refugees. Half the list was marked complete from her morning’s practice. Three days later, they returned to Haven.

 

Field Report from The Hinderlands  
We witnessed wide spread fighting between mages and templars. The Crossroad’s refugee camp was overrun when we arrived. We cleared the area and restored order. Support troops remain to protect refugees and provide services.

The Herald spoke with Mother Gisselle at length. You have her report. Mother Gisselle will join us in Haven as an adviser.

About The Herald of Andraste  
I am at fault for not noticing the Herald's poor fighting skills. In retrospect, I never saw her fight a demon or spirit in the ruins. The stave she found on a dead mage was inadequate, the same with her armor.

Solas gave her his spare stave. I found her better armor (off a dead apostate but I didn’t tell her that). Solas instructed her in battle magic then sent her to practice on local wildlife. Our Herald has a knack for ice magic. Inquisition forces and refugees received the excess fur and hides from her “practice”. We learned never to stand between the Herald and a ram. She’s discovered one ram feeds a refugee family for a week. 

Do not believe Evelyn if she says she can’t do, help, speak, negotiate, or accomplish something. She complains she is the wrong person but she isn’t. 

To my surprise, she is a natural with people. She recruited six new agents. Her power over the rifts impressed a mage cult waiting in the hills for the Maker's return. Thirty recruited mages now carry news of the Inquisition’s good deeds. 

She procured horses from Master Dennet and charmed him personally to join the inquisition as Stable Master. 

She is passionate about helping people. As the Herald of Andraste it serves us well.

She sealed six fade rifts, and with her team fighting beside her, defeated all emerging demons. She suffered no injuries the rest of the trip. Her fighting skills have improved but I shall provide her additional training. 

Despite my concern about her smart mouth, she is kind and appropriate. When she is busy taking care of people she quits worrying about personal issues. Point her in a direction and she gets things done.  
Cassandra  
Copies to Josephine, Cullen, Leliana

 

Fight Training  
Evelyn dragged her feet walking behind Cassandra, “Is this necessary? Solas is doing a great job teaching me on a stave." 

Cassandra stopped in the training yard. “Learning sword fighting makes you better, both offensively and defensively against soldiers fighting with swords. If you prefer Commander Rutherford could teach you.”

Evelyn’s eyes widened, “Wait, wait! I'm not complaining. No reason to send me to the templar.”

“Do you have a problem with the Commander?” Cassandra suspected so.

She looked at her feet and kicked the dirt around, “Well, I trust templars as far as I can spit and I spit poorly. So…don’t trust.”

“You do realize Seekers and templars have similar skills. Seekers are more powerful but don't use lyrium.” Cassandra said.

Evelyn had a different angle, “When is the last time you patrolled a Circle hall?”

She wondered where this was headed, “I've never patrolled a Circle hall. I’ve visited several Circles. What’s your point?”

“All the mages smile and greet you with a polite, hello?”

Cassandra affirmed, “Mages are always polite.”

“We get instructions how to greet guests: be polite and leave.” she said. “The Circle provides mages with everything: room, board, clothes, and education. The Chantry makes the rules. Rules where we can go. Rules how to behave. On paper rules don’t sound so bad: Stay in the Circle. Be polite to guests.”

She spoke quieter to Cassandra, “The Chantry makes the rules and the templars enforce them. Our ever present guardians. Do something wrong and it’s a templar who punishes. The Chantry calls it keeping order, templars call it punishment, the mages call it abuse.”

She stood back, “I tend to respond to a templar with equal parts contempt and fear.”

“Then lucky you. It's decided I'm your handler. You have a problem, you come to me. Before I forget, Josephine wants to see you when we are done.” Cassandra shook her head, someday this young woman will grow up.

  


Josephine outlined her job with the Inquisition handling political and social challenges. As the ambassador, she builds the Inquisitions reputation and forges beneficial alliances.

Josephine came to the point, “I want to contact the Trevelyan family. As an important Free Marches family, they'd be good allies. What do you think?” 

I knew this was coming, Evelyn thought. “Ah, well. No doubt, my family loves speaking with important people, or those who may become important. They’ll be receptive, up to the point they discover I am this Herald of Andraste. They may ask for a good spot at my execution but again, they may have other plans that day. The heretical Herald of Andraste, oh, that's going in the family album.” 

She stopped herself. Family wasn't a good topic. Her parent's loathing when they discovered she had magic was incomprehensible to her, greatly contributing to her difficulty adjusting to the Circle. She never saw any of them again...until the Conclave. “But to be serious, Josephine, if you correspond with them, would you ask about my brothers. The Trevelyans are connected with the Ostwick Chantry and I wonder if one or more of my family was at the Conclave. I believe I saw my brother, Edward...moments before…well, before. It would be nice to know, one way or another.”

Josephine promised to inquire about the brother. She decided not to pursue the subject further.


	5. A Harrowing Story

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Trip to Val Royeaux. Templar independance. The Lady of Iron. Letter from home. About the Harrowing. The Commander calls. Therifold Redoubt
> 
> Included in this chapter is the excerpt, A Harrowing Story.

Val Royeaux Chantry  
Mother Gisselle sent the Inquisition to meet Chantry leaders in Val Royeaux but suggested not to keep their hopes up. As expected, the Chantry didn't greet Evelyn or the Inquisition with open arms. In front of a large crowd, the Revered Mother Hevara declared Evelyn Divine Justina's murderer, and the Inquisition heretics for promoting a false prophet. 

Evelyn turned to Cassandra, “Should I hug her for pointing out I am not the Herald of Andraste or run because my execution platform is already set up?”

Cassandra ignored the remark, “The Chantry must see reason.”

Evelyn spoke out to the Revered Mother, “The only thing the Inquisition proclaims is there is a giant hole in the sky and we need to work together to fix it!”

“It’s too late!” The Revered Mother pointed triumphant to the approaching group of templars, “The templars return to save us.” Her confident smile vanished when a templar slugged her in the face and she crumbled to the ground. 

Lord Seeker Lucius and the templars upstaged the clerics, arrogantly glaring at the crowd.

Evelyn seethed with anger but willed herself to calm down. Change tactics. She spoke out, “Lord Seeker, are you here to beat up Chantry Mothers or is there a sale at Frock and Armor?”

The Lord Seeker Lucius seemed unimpressed, “I came here to laugh and to see what frightens old women.”

She didn’t miss a beat, “Don’t Smite me but I'm pretty sure we're all having bad templar dreams tonight.” 

The Lord Seeker looked briefly at her then glared at the crowd, “You are nothing. The templars deserve respect. We are independent. We march.” The templars left the square abandoning the Chantry once again, traveling to an unknown destination.

Cassandra turned to Evelyn, “Why do you say these things? It doesn’t help.”

Evelyn shrugged, “Things went belly up when the templar slugged the Revered Mother. No going back to ‘let’s all hold hands and work together’ after that stunt. Nothing I said changed anything, good or bad.” 

“Something is wrong with the Lord Seeker,” Cassandra observed. 

Ominous, but she's right. “Templars are always one lyrium philter away from madness.”

Evelyn approached the Revered Mother still lying on the ground. “Are you alright? Do you need a healing potion?”

The Mother glared, “What do you care?”

“I care when a templar slugs an unarmed person. Usually it's a mage on the other end of a templar’s fist so I’m especially alarmed it's a Chantry Elder. Even if you want to see me hang, I won't turn my back on someone injured. I'm just that way.”

Hevara appeared moved by her words, “Let me ask you, do you think you are the Herald of Andraste?

She thought a moment then answered honestly, “I know people call me that but personally I can’t say I am the Herald. I just don’t know.”

Her answer surprised Hevara. “That is more comforting than I thought.”

Cassandra frowned at them both. She firmly believed Andraste sent Evelyn. 

Everyone thought the trip to Val Royeaux was a disaster, except Evelyn. The trip brought in two new companions: Sara from the mysterious Red Jenny group, and Madame Vivienne de Fer, official enchanter to the Imperial court. Evelyn liked Sara from the start. Vivienne was like a nug burger, she was an acquired taste. 

In Evelyn's honor, Vivienne rolled out a gilded carpet of grace and charm at her patron's estate. Political connections lined up like toy soldiers for inspection. Evelyn knew it was not to impress, it was meant to intimidate. Vivienne’s kindness was manipulation spread like butter on bread. Despite her rich surroundings, Vivienne was an apostate, just like her. 

She knew Vivienne’s type. Her own family were masters of The Game. She admired Vivienne enough to fear her.

 

“Val Royeaux went as expected,” Leliana declared, “Our relationship with the Chantry remains broken. But we know more about the templar situation.”

Cassandra responded, “Mother Gizzelle didn't expect us to sway the whole Chantry, but opinions shifted in our direction. The Revered Mother didn’t endorse us but she admired the Herald's humility. She's no longer a 'no', she is a "maybe." 

“Humility? A mage?” Cullen wouldn't give Evelyn the benefit of a doubt. Through bitter experience, he saw the worse of mages, an issue he tried to overcome. 

“The Revered Mother asked Evelyn if she was the Herald of Andraste. Evelyn said she truly didn’t know. The Revered Mother found comfort in her honesty. I call that humility.” Leliana explained.

“Surprised as we are, the Revered Mother’s response improved the Inquisition’s reputation. We need that to approach either the rebel mages or the templars.” Josephine emphasized.

“One of the two groups needs to supplement power to the Herald’s anchor. Send her back to the Hinterlands to gain more influence and find more agents.” Leliana suggested.

Cullen asked Cassandra, “Are you sure she can accomplished our goals in the Hinderlands?”

Cassandra summarized, “Despite her smart mouth, she is the right woman. She cannot walk past a person in need without helping. She wants to make things better. Point her in a direction and she gets things done.”

Leliana asked, “What are you saying, Cassandra, we have a gem in the rough?”

“I believe you are correct. Under the emotional damage and asinine, tactless, sarcastic front, she is an intelligent, sensitive, kind, and polite woman. She was raised by a noble family and it shows when she goes up against people of authority and position. She is unafraid of bullies. She listens to people others ignore. She gets involved rather than see someone suffer. This is what I saw in the Hinderlands and Val Royeaux.”

Cullen questioned her observations, “This is not the Evelyn we see around here.”

“I can explain that,” Cassandra replied, “We brought her here a prisoner, shackled and chained. We threatened her. We held her life in our hands. She responded like a trapped animal. We asked her to stay because of the anchor, not because of her. It's hardly a vote of confidence. She has nowhere else to go, not the Circle, not her family. Give her purpose, give her meaning and she’ll prove herself.”

Liliana asked, “If we close the breach…if _she_ closes the breach…will she stay or go?”

“I believe if she builds relationships and finds purpose, she'll stay. Time will tell,” Cassandra answered.

 

The Iron Lady  
Vivienne peaked her head around her little nook in the Chantry, gleaming her eyes at Evelyn, “Herald, may I have a moment of your time?”

Evelyn stopped, “Of course.” 

“You're from the Circle of Magi in Ostwick, did you know Senior Enchanter Lydia? She is a dear friend of mine.”

“Of course I knew her, we all knew her.” 

Vivienne continued, “She is a dear, don’t you think?” 

“Was,” Evelyn answered, “Lydia was killed by an apprentice at the Circle. Not me, of course.” 

“Why would anyone think you did?” Vivienne asked nicely.

That particular open ended question got Evelyn's attention. This was not a casual chat. It was a probe, or she could be gathering information. Best to deflect. “Lately I am responsible for a lot of things. Is there something you want to talk about?”

“You are known as the Herald of Andraste. Many believe you are the agent of her will. Whatever the truth, that belief gives you power. I wonder what you would do with such influence...as a mage?” Vivienne asked.

This was very unsettling. She's playing the game....with me. Why? Probably best to play naive. “Well, as a mage I'm concerned about mages. What will happen to us in these uncertain times?" 

“Of course, my dear.” 

Don't let her give up so quickly, she thought. Try direct, appeal to her pride. “You are fortunate as Empress Celene's official Court Enchanter to feel the pulse of Thedas and how the influence of the Herald of Andraste is best directed. You joined the Inquisition to share your advice. I would be remiss if I didn’t ask.” 

“I am here to help. As mages we know that magic is dangerous, just as fire is dangerous. Anyone who forgets this truth gets burned. Andraste said magic should serve man not to rule over him.” 

Well, the Chantry's dangers of magic speech. The territory she wanders gets smaller, she thought. She's a mage so where is this going? “Yes, the Chantry protects its people.” 

“Just as the Circles protect mages.” Vivienne stated.

And there it is, Evelyn concluded. “History almost agrees. Circles existed before the Chantry: A refuge and a place for mages to gather. The Nevarran Accord changed that. The Chantry decided Circles would contain mages; they said to keep Mages safe. Templars were to protect mages from a hostile world but instead they became gatekeepers. The role of the Chantry and templars migrated far from keeping mages safe to safely keeping mages in the Circle. Don't you agree?” Probably too bold, she thought, but sometimes the obvious deserves a voice.

“A student of history, I see. The Chantry gives every Circle mage an education. A gift, yes?"

“Is there something else you need? I leave for the Hinderlands at first light.”

“That is all, my dear, it’s a pleasure speaking with you.”

“Good day, Vivienne.” Got out with most of my skin intact. She's definitely interested in restoring the Circles but what about reform? How could a mage want to restore the Circles? The circle are not a closed society for mages. Circles are a prison. 

 

  
A Harrowing Story  
The second trip to the Hinderlands was declared a success. Leliana directed Evelyn to track down a Grey Warden seen in the area. Blackwall, turns out, recruits for the Wardens, but was unaware all the Grey Wardens had disappeared. Blackwall pledged his sword to the Inquisition much to Evelyn’s pleasure. Blackwall was an exceptional front line fighter and she felt safe with him fighting by her.

Josephine stopped by the training field where Cassandra and Evelyn practiced, “Herald, if you have a moment.” Josephine sat at a nearby bench.

“Please, call me Evelyn,” she requested, “What can I do for you, Ambassador?”

“I have a letter from your parents.” She said.

The content wasn't entirely unexpected, seeing it written out was a kick in the gut. Her parents hated and disowned her for being a mage, and they wanted nothing to do with her.

Entirely new? Her parents blamed her for their sons' death. Her eldest brother, Earnest, heir to the Trevelyan fortune attended as liaison to the Ostwick Chantry, accompanied by her brother, Edward. This was devastating.

Both her brothers were dead. She wiped out the entire Trevelyan line leaving them a hated daughter and a mage who could inherit nothing. Even if she gave birth, the Chantry claimed all babies born to a Circle mage.

All hope of a reconciliation died with her brothers. She was devastated. She had nowhere to go but the Circle.

Josephine regretted the Trevelyan family's response. Her heart ached at Evelyn’s pain, “Herald…I mean Evelyn, if there is anything I can do, please ask.”

Evelyn struggled to remain polite, “Thank you for calling me Evelyn. Calling me the Herald identifies me quickly to assassins my father sends to kill me.”

Josephine’s eyes widened at the thought of assassins, “You don’t think he... Oh, you jest.”

The response was eerily casual, “I’ve killed his heir and heir in waiting. My father’s lineage ends with me. He’d be mad enough to send assassins.”

Josephine was aghast, “Dear Maker, do you want to talk about this?”

Pain threatened to spill from a pit deep in her gut, “I don’t know what more I can say that I haven’t already scream, cried, joked and discussed with everyone and their mabari. All I am is a cursed mage and an apostate.”

Josephine offered reassurance, “In the short time you’ve been with us you've done remarkable things. We are lucky to have you.”

“I think I missed that last bit. I'm listening for those assassins."

She stopped herself. She never intended to be mean, "Sorry, Josephine, I was rude. Thank you. You are very kind. I appreciate your efforts. Maybe hold onto that letter and I’ll look at it later, two years or so from now, or use it for kindling. Again, thank you. I think I'll head to the tavern.”

She excused herself and headed to the tavern.

It was past the dinner hour. She hadn’t eaten since breakfast. It didn’t matter, an ale called her name. The busy tavern looked inviting.

She picked up two ales from Flissa, the owner, and as they chatted she finished the first ale. She looked around for a place to sit and found an empty spot at a near full table. The Commander's recruits greeted her warmly. The lad next to her pointed at her hand, “Are you the Herald?”

“Don’t know if I am the famed Herald, but I am Evelyn with a green glowing hand.” The table laughed with approval. Evelyn thought if they can laugh at that they were already very drunk. This was going to be a great night.

“You’re a mage, like they say?” asked a young woman.

She nodded as she finished her second ale. Across the table a young man slid over a complimentary third ale.

The conversation continued prompted by another patron, “So you had a Harrowing? And survived? What was that like?”

The whole table watched. “The Harrowing. I love this topic.” Taking about the Harrowing can get a mage in trouble so is it the ale or her anger talking? She couldn’t help herself.

“The Chantry's fairy tale version is four templars escort an apprentice mage to the very top of the Circle Tower to a large empty chamber. The mage ingests a huge chalice filled with lyrium that propels their unconsciousness into the Fade. As they pass out the templars gently lower the unconscious mage to the floor. The templars wait vigilantly while the brave mage travels through the Fade until a monstrous demon tries to possess them. If the mage can fight off the demon they will wake up in the Harrowing chamber surrounded by the four templars who clap with joy for the heroic mage. A successful Harrowing.”

“Wow, huh? That’s the Chantry’s version. Here's what really happens.”

“Four templars drag an apprentice mage to the Harrowing Chamber. The frighten mage knows if they fail the Harrowing they die at the top of the Circle Tower. At the point of a sword, the mage is forced to ingest a huge chalice of lyrium. If they refuse the templars make the mage tranquil on the spot.

“You see, a mage has one of three choices: Harrowing, Tranquility or Death -- there are no other options. So the mage decides I don’t want to be tranquil and they drink the poison lyrium.

“The mage goes into shock and crumples to the floor, but not before they see all four templars pull out their swords and point the sharp end at the mage's heart because if the mage becomes possessed or takes too long in the fade the templars instantly pierce the mage’s heart. As four templars point swords at their heart, the mage's mind is dumped into the Fade.

“The mage is terrified which is both good and bad. Bad because a terrified mage attracts demons like bees to flowers, and good because the mage doesn’t have to look for a demon. When a monstrous demon shows, the mage must battle the demon, physically or through trickery, to keep the demon from possessing them.

“A mage who can resist the demon and not get possessed wakes up on the floor of the Harrowing Chamber. The four templars still pointing swords at the mage’s heart grumble because they don’t get to kill a mage that day.”

The table was stunned but they were fascinated by the story. Someone asked, “Can the Templar just kill the mage?”

She explained, “The Chantry says a mage who returns from the fade the same as when they drank the lyrium, aren’t possessed. And, according to the Chantry a mage who passes their Harrowing can never be made tranquil, ever. Those are the rules. This disappoints some templars who have to hold the pointy end of the sword at a mage’s heart the whole time the mage is in the Fade. Templars debate if they should go ahead and kill the mage anyway, just in case. After all, templars deal with mages all the time, they know better than the Chantry.”

The whole table was enraptured. Other nearby tables were listening. A soldier asked, “Maker’s breath. Is that what happen to you? You saw and killed a demon?”

She went on, “No, during my Harrowing when I was in the Fade, my brother walked up to me acting all nice and friendly. What mage is stupid enough to believe their brother would show up in the Fade for a conversation? My demon was a particular level of stupid to think I'd fall for that because my big brother and I never got along. 

“So I punched him in the face. My demon was all like, ‘how could you hit your brother,’ so I hit him again and said 'just like that.' Stupid demon. Busted him in the nose twice and he forgets to bleed like a human. I said go bother some other mage before I hit you again. My demon was disappointed not to possess a mage that day but he did leave.

“I woke up to four swords pointing at my chest. I didn’t wait for the debate if I was possessed or not, I said ’Do I at least get dinner before you start poking me with that?’ One of the templars jerked me up from the floor and slapped me. But hey, I passed, sore cheek and all and didn’t’ get stabbed. Good Harrowing.”

 

It was deep in the night, Cullen should be sleeping, but the tavern sent him an urgent message. Imagining things from a fight to drunken behavior, Cullen dressed and walked to the Tavern.

The tavern owner, Flissa, waved Cullen over as he enter. “I am so glad you are here, the Herald was here earlier…um, telling strange stories.”

“What kind of strange stories?” Cassandra was the Herald’s official “handler” so he's puzzled why he was called instead.

“Well, she told everyone about her Harrowing. A templar fellow overheard and asked me to send for you. The Herald left about ten minutes ago.”

He was steamed. The Harrowing was a sacred rite, the actual events kept secret. Mages and templars alike are instructed never to speak of it with anyone. It is not a topic for a tavern discussion. It made sense the Templar reported her.

Cullen left the tavern and walked to her cabin. He knocked gently. “Herald, are you okay?”

“Sorry, no Herald here,” a voice replied, “Try the next cabin.”

He frowned. “It’s Commander Rutherford. May I come in….if you are decent.”

“Still no Herald.”

Cullen was annoyed but she disliked being called Herald so he obliged. “Evelyn.”

“This is the right cabin. There is a crowd of people in here so you better be decent,” she answered.

“What? There are…” He wasn't sure what she's up to.

Evelyn answered back annoyed, “Just open the door.”

Cullen found her alone wrapped up in a blanket sitting on her bed. She didn't look up.

Cullen asked her, “Do you know how late it is?”

She responded, “Do you know how late it is?”

He replied, “I know how late it is.”

She mimicked him, “I know how late it is.”

He asked, barely able to stay reasonable, “Are you drunk?”

With equal tone she responded, “Are you drunk?”

Frustrated but trying to be the adult, he asked “Why are you being so difficult?”

“Because,” she snapped, “it’s the dead of night and I am wondering why you are in my cabin asking the obvious.”

The situation was hopeless and he forgot why he was there. Right, to ask why she talked about the Harrowing, “I was…never mind. If you are alright I'll leave. We'll speak in the morning. Good night, Herald.”

Not missing a beat, she bit back, “Not the Herald. You’ll find your blessed Herald in the Chantry along with the Maker, his beloved Bride Andraste, and all the faithful followers. I’m. Just. Evelyn.”

He knew better than argue, “I am not trying….”

She threw an angry look, “You’re a good Chantry boy devoted to the Maker, in love with his mythical Templar Order. Without this damn mark and my new Herald of Andraste title no one would have anything to do with me, including you because all I am is a filthy apostate.

“As soon as this mark closes the breach everyone will be done with me. My family disowned me and there isn’t a Circle to send me to. I’ll be tossed out on the road.

“I’m sure another bunch of rogue templars will find me and finish tearing me up. Have you ever seen my back? It's a statement of who I am to this world.” Evelyn stood up with her back to him and dropped the blanket off her shoulders. She stood there, her whole back exposed, and he couldn't look away from the scars covering her entire back.

She spoke over her shoulder, “I still remember each time the whip split my skin. It’s a daily reminder of how the Chantry, templars and the people of Thedas, whom I am supposed to save, feel about me because I’m a mage.”

Guilt clenched Cullen's gut recalling all the mages fallen under Knight Command Meredith while he looked the other way. Yes, he looked the other way because he believed mages less than human. He was no better than a gang of rogue Templars with a whip. He walked to Evelyn, pulled the blanket over her shoulders and wrapped it around her.. “It’s late, Evelyn. Get some sleep.”

Cullen turned and left, gently closing the door behind him.

She faced the closed door, listening to steps moving further and further away. Tears pour down her face. “Maker, I'm such a jerk.”

 

Cullen called an informal meeting in Josephine’s office with Cassandra and Leliana. They needed to hear what happened. 

He began, “There was a problem with the Herald… Evelyn.”

Cassandra raised an eyebrow, “Oh, what’s going on?”

It was still disturbing, “The tavern called last night, very late. She told a table full of people about her Harrowing. I went to check on her and she was….”

“Belligerent?” Cassandra guessed.

Be easy to agree. After he left Evelyn he spent the rest of the night fighting thoughts about what he saw and what he did as a Templar. Those years in the Circle hardened him. He struggled to see mages as people. The tavern story triggered old anger toward mages, but his heart shredded to pieces at the sight of her scarred back.

“She was…upset, hurting. She, um…showed me her back, rather dramatically. Have you seen her back?”

Cassandra affirmed, “Leliana and I did after finding her at the Temple of Ashes. Newly healed. She claims rogue templars were responsible. Why did she show you? And why tell people about her Harrowing?”

Josephine remembered the letter, “I think I know. We received a letter from her family yesterday. Her estranged parents blamed her for both brothers dying at the Conclave. She joked about it but she was upset. Tried to hide it by being…”

Liliana guessed correctly, “Sarcastic?”

Josephine said, "I should have told you, Cassandra. What should we do?”

“Mages don’t usually hide their suffering. They are vocal about grievances and she is no different. Her story is tragic compared to some but less than others. Life isn’t easy in the Circle for mages.”

Cullen was instantly defensive, “You think templars are better off? I’ve had my share of horror in the Circles.”

Cassandra quickly addressed him, “No one discounts what you went through or your choices. You’ve come a long way in coming to terms with your experiences. She is just now facing her trauma. She's important to the Inquisition so we must help her. Help her to see when she is being…difficult.”

Cullen felt ashamed, “You're right. I’m…still sensitive…about mages.”

Cassandra wondered, “Cullen, if you can gain her trust it may help her deal with her templar issues. Give you an opportunity to help a mage. She needs more fight training.”

Cullen’s anger simmered. Cassandra talked about his personal private issues in the middle of a meeting. She knows his secrets, they speak privately about his past, there's an agreement. On the other hand, she said nothing specific, she didn’t reveal his lyrium situation. To other people he appears in control, but these issues slithered around his mind like a snake.

"Alright. I'll take over arms training". He can master his loathing of mages. He will gain control of his emotions.

Cassandra nodded, “Good luck.”

 

  
He could do this. He'd be fine. The disturbing incident over the Harrowing story and seeing her back was fresh in his mind. It helped hearing Josephine’s explanation of why all that was triggered.

Cullen handed her a practice sword, “Let’s start by seeing what Cassandra taught you.”

Evelyn checked the sword's weight, “I learned where the pointy end of the sword goes.”

He'd be patient, “Come on. Let's see.”

Cullen stood sword ready waiting for Evelyn to follow his example.

“If you plan to push more than Cassandra you should know I’m already covered in bruises. I can hardly lift my stave without flinching. Dammit, I’m a mage not a templar.” She followed his example then attempted a strike. He swiftly parried

“I’ll teach you how to defend yourself. Now, don't hold back. I can take it. Try lunge and strike, straight line. I’ll defend.” He said calmly.

She stood in position preparing to attack. "If you really want to help me there's something else besides sword n' shields I could use help with." She moved forward sword out and he quickly parried.

She's hardly trying, he thought. He was also curious and suspicious about whatever she was asking. "Good. Cassandra's done well with you." 

“Oh, come on, now you’re just being nice.” She replied. "I am serious about asking for help."

"Okay, what is it?" Cullen lowered his sword. 

She remained sword in hand and in a ready stance. "Seeing that the Inquisition keeps tossing me in front of people and things who want to kill me, and I've been locked up in the circle for fourteen years, a bit of tutoring on strategy would be helpful.

That got Cullen's attention. "Military strategy? 

"You do know something about military strategy?" She asked rather pointedly.

"Of course I do." He replied a little cross and lifted his sword into position. "Don’t stop before you strike. You give yourself away. It's step, strike. Be aggressive, throw your opponent off. Put your whole self into the strike.”

"I know about demons and spirits' strengths and weaknesses, right. Iron Bull was the first Qunari I've ever seen with all that massive body and horns...and massive body. What a relief he became our ally as I had no idea how to take A Qunari down. Qunari must have a weakness, right?" She took twp steps confidently, but then stopped again instead of striking. 

“That's a good point. You hesitated. Don’t think about it. Find the rhythm. Again.” He couldn't fault her thinking, strategy can make the difference between life and death. Considering what she faced every time she left Skyhold, inquiring about military strategy was very smart. 

She took a proper stand, sword raised. "For instance, templars have Dispel and Smite to quickly stop a mage from casting, but a mage carrying a sword could distract a templar long enough for a mage to get a spell off. Maybe a ten second distraction, right?" She shook her shoulders. Might as well give him one good hit. She took four good steps and slashed out her sword.

Cullen's hair stood on end at her example of a mage with a sword. She was absolutely right. Older templars loved to scare new recruits with stories about mages who use swords. Evelyn turned it into a tactic. 

Evelyn took her final step with sword plunging forward when Cullen realized she was about to hit him. Rather than parry he stepped aside and she fell hard into the damp earth.

When she got to her knees she was covered in dirt and blood trickled from her nose. Might as well be proud and own it. “That was good, right?”

He fought an impulse to belittle her but she was gracious about taking a dive in the dirt. His soldiers joked all the time in awkward situations, maybe he should try that instead. He offered his hand to help her stand. “Well, congratulations on the new beard. You look like a dwarf I knew.”

Did he actually say that to her? Oh, terrible. That was probably the worse attempt at a joke ever. Absolutely no sense of humor. She refused to surrender to bad jokes, “Dwarf? Did that dwarf kick your ass because I am about to kick yours.” She folded the sword across her chest and slammed forward nearly knocking him over. 

He stumbled a couple of steps back before regaining his balance. She was on the ground again, in front of him. He picked her up by the arm. She tried wiping the dirt with her sleeve but it just smeared even more. It was difficult not to smirk a little.

“Now that’s what I’m talking about. Never hold back. Hit like you mean it. Now, truce, okay? I heard your request. I'll teach you military strategy. You may have a knack for strategy but not so much with sword play. Go clean up before someone else mistakes you for a dwarf.”

Was he trying to be funny? No one described the Commander as humorous. Both Varric and Sara agreed the Commander needed to lighten up. Evelyn turned to leave then stopped. She looked back at him smiling, “Is dwarf a good look for me because I may need a disguise someday, you know, apostate and all.” 

Why did he say dwarf? His attempt at humor bombed but she joked with him anyway. An embarrassed smile spread across Cullen’s face. He couldn't remember the last time someone joked around with him. “Go on. See you back here tomorrow.”

“Can’t.” She called back, “Our team leaves for Therifold Redoubt tomorrow to talk with the Templars, remember?


	6. Skyhold

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Templars help close the Breach. Corypheus stops a celebration. Camp Hope. Survivors find Skyhold. The Herald is the Inquisitor. Cullen overextends.

Solas confirmed the sky was scarred but the breach was sealed. All the souls in Haven danced and celebrated the Inquisition's closing of the Breach with the templar assistance templars. The Inquisition’s partnership with the templars surpassed all expectations. 

One person puzzled why Evelyn chose the templar's help to seal the Breach. She despised the Order, didn't she? Went out of her way to avoid them. Cullen's curiosity compelled him to seek out Evelyn. He found her watching celebrants dance by the fire.

Evelyn sat on the retaining wall above the fire watching the celebration. She noticed the Commander weaving his way toward her location. He asked if he could speak with her so she brushed away the dirt on the ledge. “Commander, our friends celebrate the Inquisition's victory yet look very serious.”

According to Sara, he always looks serious and it isn't good for his health. He's not the only one sitting back from the celebrations, the Herald looks just as somber as he. "I'm curious, Herald, You don’t hide your contempt for the Order and there seems no end to the wrongs they’ve committed. So, why did you choose the templars?”

“Not contempt, Commander, fear. I’ve good reason. This one time three templars tortured me...well, there was a Mage-Templar war maybe it doesn’t count. Never mind, that still isn’t funny. I get it. Not all templars are bad. The Order doesn't turn all its people into monsters. Those men who hurt me would still be bad even wearing silk party dresses. Humph, still not funny.”

“So you surround yourself with templars to cure your fear of templars?” He questioned her thinking.

“No, that’s how I beat my fear of spiders. Some jerk poured a jar of spiders on me. While screaming my head off, I stomped those suckers to death. Spiders aren’t so tough.

"Honestly, Commander, I never met a templar like you. When it comes to the Order, you were a hopeful surprise."

Cullen was taken aback. "Um, thank you?" 

She paused a moment then continued, “I see templars a little different every day because of you. Our troops trust you, look up to you. The mages here respect you. When I needed help you looked past my rude remarks and said ‘what can I do to help, Herald?’ I said my name is Evelyn and the Herald is in the next cabin but you helped me anyway.” 

Did he help her that night, after she told everyone about the Harrowing? Was this a thank you? 

"After all this, when I return to the Circle, I'd rather have templars like you there. When I went to Therinfal I was curious if I'd find more templars like you.

She continued, “Therinfal was disturbing and enlightening. You know Knight Templar Barris? Good man, he's like you. He believes in the Andraste Herald thing but spoke to me like I was just a person. The uncorrupted templars were leaderless and Barris stepped up and pulled them together. ”

“None of his templars looked at me twice or questioned why a mage represented the Inquisition. No one tried to Smite me or Silence me, and you know I do run on.” 

Cullen chuckled. She talks more than he ever would, he thought.

She explained further, “Barris sent me to find the uncorrupted Lieutenants. My team was at the door ready to go, twenty or so templars standing behind me. One templar who I didn’t know said to me, _'Don’t you worry, Herald, we’ll hold the hall until you get back. You can count on us.'_ ”

Cullen's response was golden, “He called you Herald and you didn’t make a sarcastic remark?”

She wasn't letting Cullen get away with that, “I was distracted by your blood on my shoes.” 

“My blood? This wasn’t in your report.”

“Details, details. Details gets you a book not a brief report. As I mentioned, an envy demon sent me into a Fade dream. He wanted to see my reaction as he cut your throat. He slit your throat and you bled on my shoes. Ugh, not funny now or probably ever, but, if it’s a comfort, I fried that sucker demon to death. If I avoided you the last couple of days, I was trying to erase the image of you dying. Why do I run on so?”

Cullen guessed, “Because you’re nervous?”

Evelyn tilted her head, “So when I’m nervous I talk and when you’re nervous you can’t talk.”

“Uh-hum,” He grinned.

They were finally getting along, something she's hoped for. “What a pair we make.”

“I apologize for bleeding on your shoes, _Herald_ ,” he said, emphasis on the Herald.

“Ugg, that was on purpose!” She smiled at his jest.

“Yes, on purpose, Evelyn.” He got caught up by her generous smile. 

A rapid ringing of the bell brought everyone to attention. A frantic soldier ran across the yard to Cullen. They exchanged a few words then Cullen yelled out to everyone, “To arms! We are under attack.” 

Evelyn followed Cullen to the front gate, “What’s going on?”

Cullen pointed up to the mountain pass, “A large force approaches, the bulk still behind the mountain.”

“Cullen, give me a plan, tell me what to do.” 

He stared at Evelyn’s unwavering commitment. A few months ago he questioned her willingness to help the Inquisition. “If we are to survive we must control the battle. Get to those trebuchets. Hit that pass. The snow will slow those monsters down.”

"On my way,” she replied without a second thought. She called the Iron Bull, Blackwall and Sara to her side and they ran out the gate to the defenses.

Outside the gate, Evelyn and her team met the enemy. Most of the soldiers wore Venatori armor, a Tevinter cultist group. Mages conscripted by the Venatori Magister Alexius fought alongside the Red Templars. Combined, the Inquisition faced a powerful force lead by a yet unseen person called The Elder One.

Enemy soldiers hit Evelyn and her team at the trebuchet. Bull and Blackwall held back attackers while Evelyn and Sara picked off range supporters. As soon as Blackwall and Iron Bull finish the last Venatori, Evelyn launched the trebuchet. Evelyn’s group ran for the second trebuchet just as enemy reinforcements swarmed their position. 

Opposing forces advanced on the second trebuchet as Evelyn calibrated the shot. Her people held them back as she released the payload causing a massive avalanche killing most of the advancing forces. 

Too soon her group declared victory. A dragon announced its approach with a terrible scream, fire streaming across the field. The dragon belonged to the Elder One, leader of this terrible army. Evelyn shouted the retreat and they ran for the front gate as the dragon covered the trebuchet in fire.

Cullen held the gate open for Evelyn’s scrambling team. Everyone ran into the Chantry, the only stone building in Haven. 

“We cannot win against a dragon.” Cullen informed her, “We are losing the battle. At this point, we can only choose how we die.” 

Evelyn's world came to a standstill. She looked around at the people huddled around the Chantry frighten, injured, and helpless. Some crying, others dying. She couldn't let them die, not while she had the power to save them. 

Chancellor Roderick interrupted them to reveal a possible escape route out of Haven. 

“Cullen, can this work? Can you get everyone out?” 

“Provided we can distract the dragon. I’ll have my men load one more trebuchet. Haven will be buried in the avalanche but we'll have a chance to escape. Someone must stay behind and let it off.” 

“I will." Evelyn said unwavering, "This Elder One wants me. I'll distract him, give everyone time to get out.” 

“You can’t, you’ll be buried with Haven! I cannot allow this, I'll stay"

“No, Commander, listen to me," she stepped closer, spoke quietly, "Good people here died today. I can offer no less than them. You said it, _today we choose how we die_. I choose that these people live. I'll buy you time to escape. The breach is closed, my job is done. My only future is a Circle. Please, they need you. Promise me you’ll get everyone to safety. Everyone. When you reach the pass signal me. I'll release the trebuchet.”

Cold seeped into his bones. This was wrong. If there was only a better way, but there wasn't. “Herald, maybe you’ll find a way…”

She put her hand on his shoulder, then gave him a gentle smile, “Evelyn, my name is Evelyn.” Her face grew determined, “Okay, I have a job to do and so do you. Go do it.”

“Everyone, go! To the back exit. Hurry.” He turned to see her step through the door into smoke and fire, the light from the fires framing her silhouette as she disappeared in the night. 

At that very moment, he understood her worth, as a person, and a mage. He was wrong all these years, so wrong. Blinded by anger and prejudice. He could hardly breathe. 

The Herald’s chance of success was insurmountable: Launch the trebuchet, maybe, but survive an avalanche, no. 

An anger drew in his belly. It was not her role to sacrifice herself, it was his. He was the commander, it was his job. He joined the Inquisition to prove himself, to fix what he destroyed, to pay for his failures. But he was not walking out that door, a damn mage walks into darkness, offering her life, dying for their cause. A mage. He tried to breathe. Compose yourself, Cullen. This is another chance to make it right, to save everyone. Don't fail her sacrifice.

Cullen instructed soldiers to take any supplies they could carry: food, bedding, essentials. Survival was the next trial. Escape through the hidden pass wasn’t without perils: Snow and cold slowed escape, the wounded had to be carried, they had no plan. Somehow, he must keep everyone alive until they reached a safe destination. If the Herald sacrificed her life then he would save as many people as he could before drawing his last breath.

More people walked over the pass than he expected. As the last person walked by him, Cullen stopped to look back.

Flames crossed every building lighting up Haven like day. He peered down to the trebuchet readied for the Herald. His heart stopped. Even at this distance he saw the dragon near the trebuchet. Dear Maker, has she failed? Has the dragon killed her? 

Cullen had Sara ready an arrow. He promised he would, he wouldn't break this promise.

“In case she is alive, right? We’re hoping.” Sara said as she drew her bow. Cullen lit the arrow. 

The flaming arrow soared high overhead, a slip of light trailing through the sky. Cullen looked back one last time, “Andraste keep you.” 

Concerned the dragon may pursue, Cullen walked survivors through the night. Small fires were lit along the way so people could warm up for a few minutes before pushing forward. When the sun rose over the mountain, the pass from Haven was a mere speck in the distance. Cullen found a place to rest and attend to the wounded. 

The Maker granted him another chance so Cullen turned his service to the survivors. He assigned able body persons to organize supplies, pitch tents, prepare food and set up a makeshift infirmary. He failed in Haven, he allowed the Herald to sacrifice herself, but he would not surrender now. He will see survivors to safety. He pushed himself, not allowing himself a break until everything found its place.

Survivors settled in with food and shelter. With the luxury of time granted by the Herald's sacrifice, grief and fear spread among the survivors. The people lost friends, homes, livelihoods. They lived but what of the future, what of the danger, the dragon, and the hideous man named Corypheus? Survivors had safety and shelter but no destination beyond that day. Though they survived hope dwindled. 

Cullen looked back to the narrow passage. The Herald’s sacrifice made it possible for everyone to be alive. Evelyn, the reluctant Herald of Andraste, a mage, fell for them. 

The Iron Bull, Blackwall, and Sara set up a small area near the end of the camp. They named it Camp Hope to watch the pass hoping she would emerge. Hours later, Cullen found himself sitting with the group. By nightfall, the group’s number grew, including Dorian, Cassandra and Knight-Captin Barris. Shifts were set so some people slept while others watched through the night. 

After night's peak the snow stopped and the sky cleared. Most of the camp slept, exhausted from the long walk. Unable to sleep, Cullen took the second shift. He sat watching the pass. On his left, Blackwall leaned sleeping against the crate with Sara draped over his shoulder. 

Cullen heard it first: soft crunchy noises at the top of a snow drift. He stood looking toward the pass. Another crunchy sound drew his eyes to a small silhouette that toppled to the ground.

Was this Evelyn? Was he hallucinating? Cullen prayed, “Maker, please.” 

Cullen stepped over Sara and ran to the figure laying in the snow. Blackwall and Sara woke to the commotion and followed. Cullen dropped to his knees turned the snow covered figure onto his lap. Anxious, Blackwall and Sara waited as Cullen revealed the snow and ice covered face.

“Maker’s balls, it's her. It’s the Herald!” Blackwall's loud baritone voice boomed across the camp.

Sara bounced like a deer in the snow, “Knew it. Knew it!”

Cassandra held her hands in prayer, “Praise the Maker.”

Cullen lifted the Herald heavy with snow and ice. Sara brushed snow off her face while Blackwall pulled ice clumps from her clothes. The commotion woke the whole camp. Hope soared as Cullen carried her through the camp to the make shift infirmary.

Cullen looked down to find her staring at him through half open eyes and frosted lashes. “I can’t believe it. Herald, you made it.”

“It's...Evelyn. No dragon scales…for you,” Evelyn squeaked out before closing her eyes. 

How does one respond to that? Cullen wondered. She's dying yet she jokes. She's dying and I don't want to let her go.

. 

. 

A New Title and a Fortress  
Apparently escaping the fade, becoming the Herald of Andraste, closing the breach, recruiting agents, fighting demons (and bandits, Venatori, bears, dragons, apostates, red templars), surviving an avalanche, finding Skyhold, and most important, pissing off Corypheus, a would-be god and his pet dragon, wins one the title of Inquisitor…and all the responsibilities that go with it.

Evelyn accepted the title: she wanted all of Thedas to see a mage stand for what is right. For a mage to be more than a person to be feared. Changing people's opinions about mages was important, but even more urgent, she became Inquisitor Trevelyan because the consequences were dire. She met Corypheus and he would destroy the world. 

Corypheus attacked Haven for one reason: to reclaim the anchor. He attempted to extract the anchor only to find it permanently bonded to her hand. Beyond a doubt, he wanted her dead and would kill everyone, destroy everything to get it done. She would not see people die because of her. 

After Evelyn accepted the Inquisitor's ceremonial sword Dorian pulled her aside, “According to my sources, mainly me, our Commander is running himself mad. He's over-managing his troops, workers and refugees, and orchestrating all of Skyhold. He'll fall from exhaustion if the new boss doesn’t do something. He needs a distraction, the prettier the better. I have it on good authority that a certain handsome Tevinter mage isn’t the right distraction for our Commander.”

“Not this again, Dorian.” The Tevinter talked her ear off all the way to Skyhold about the Commander, “He wasn’t swooning over me, he was worried, you know, me freezing to death and all. Everyone was swooning. If you’ll quit nagging, I'll check on our Commander. I’m sure he’s fine.”

“Oh, he is fine, one fine looking man, who fancies you. If you haven’t noticed then I conclude freezing in the snow addled your brain, my dear,” Dorian winked.

“We're colleagues...somewhat friends...well, most days. He's very moody." She had noticed on the journey to Skyhold Cullen wasn't acting like the man she knew in Haven: He seemed driven beyond reason, a man on a mission.

“Or maybe templar’s swear vows against fraternizing with mages. Oh, we need to know. Ask him if there are templar rules or celibacy vows.” Dorian begged. 

That peaked her interest. She stopped by Cullen’s command post in Skyhold’s yard. “Looks very busy around here. How are things going, Commander?

He looked up from his pile of papers, and oh, great Maker, Dorian was right, the man was working himself to death. Cullen was pale, his eyes bloodshot. How is he even standing? 

He didn’t slow a bit as he spoke, “We have our soldiers assigned to barracks. Supplies are arriving by the hour. The infirmary is set up in the yard for now. I found a suitable place but it needs repairs which are underway. We’ll have everything ship shape. Morale was low when we lost Haven but since you accepted the role of Inquisitor morale has improved drastically, Inquisitor.”

“Inquisitor Trevelyan, that’s some title.” 

Cullen signed papers and handed them to a clerk, “It sounds good.”

“Is that the official opinion?” 

“Of course, we all agree. You have our full support.” He suddenly stopped and looked at her. He became pointedly serious, “What happen at Haven was unacceptable. We must be prepared this time.” 

Nice he can slow down, if only for a moment. “We were overcome. Thank you for getting everyone out. And I'm glad you got out, too.”

“Well….um…,” His face reddened with embarrassment then instantly turned serious again. He remembered watching her walked out that door into the smoke and fire. He looked at her, his eyes filled with reverence. He witnessed acts proving she was the Herald of Andraste, “You stayed behind. You were willing to sacrifice yourself… You have my word that will not happen again.” He looked uncomfortable for a moment then quickly buried his attention in paperwork. 

“May I ask you something else?” It was time for that distraction.

He didn’t stop working, “What do you want to ask?” 

“Now that the templars are here, will they still be templars?” She asked.

“They want to remain templars. They'll follow the templar code. You allowed that.” More papers sorted, he jotted a note on one. 

“What about you? Do you still follow the templar code?” She asked.

“What do you mean?” A clerk handed him a paper to sign. 

“Vows to the Chantry. Templar vows?” She kept after him. 

“Me? I am no longer a Templar. I have no vows.” He grew irritated at the line of questions. 

“So no vows of celibacy?” She asked bluntly. 

He froze in shock, like Corypheus had offered him a fried templar sandwich. ”What?! Oh. Um… Do we need to speak about this?”

Dorian was right, it's a good distraction. “I thought we were to the point we could talk about anything.”

He anxiously looked for a way out, “Is there anything else we could talk about?”

“Are there other topics I should avoid?”

A nervous blush bloomed across his face worried she would purse the subject further, “The answer is no, I’ve taken no such vows. Can we speak about something else?” 

“How about food? When’s the last time you ate? Commander, you need a break.” She couldn’t tell if he looked more flustered, embarrassed, angry, or exhausted.

He was angry. “Is this an order?”

“My first order as Inquisitor if you don’t go voluntarily. Please don't make me beg. I'm new to all this leader of the Inquisition thing. I’ll lose respect with my minions if I’m on my knees begging you to eat dinner.”

He grumbled. “I’ll stop at sunset. Is that good enough?”

“If sunset includes end of your work day, then yes. Good enough.” Evelyn left a grumpy Cullen at his table. She wondered where the Haven Cullen had gone.


	7. Lyrium

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Champion of Kirkwall. Chess with Dorian, Cullen and Evelyn. Crestwood's walking dead. Crestwood Field Report. Lyrium 101.

Skyhold, according to Solas, was an ancient lost fortress older than the empire and perhaps once a strong hold of ancient elves. Magic permeated the grounds allowing grass, trees and foliage to grow in the middle of the icy cold of the Frostback Mountains. Unoccupied since the Third Blight, it was under considerable disrepair taking the Inquisition time to make it habitable. 

Off the towering main hall was the library, rookery, atrium, kitchen, war room...areas the Inquisitions would conduct it's business. Commander Rutherford claimed a tower adjoining the gatehouse. Above his office was a loft he set up as his sleeping quarters. Across from the main tower was the Herald's Rest: tavern, commons, and gathering place for the people. As with all castle fortresses, there was a stable, dungeon, armory and smith. Off the main hall was the Royal Chambers, renamed the Inquisitor's Suite. 

Evelyn looked over the Inquisitor’s suite. Her noble parents didn’t have a bedroom that big. The Inquisitor’s suite was about the same size as her dormitory at Ostwick Circle, and eighteen women lived in that room. Had her parents paid "tribute" to the Circle she'd been given a private room, instead she was "common" and thus lived in a dormitory. 

Three huge walk-out stain glass doors opened to separate balconies overlooking the snow peaks. For two nights after Josephine gave her the key she left after dark and slept in the women’s barracks. The suite was too big and too isolated.

When Varric arrived for his appointment he was astonished by the room size. "Wow, this is huge! Party size!" he exclaimed. 

"Bookings available for private parties," she joked. "Favorite dwarfs with great chests get the best rates.”

“There you are!” Varric beamed, “I’ve missed my snarky friend. You’ve been all too serious lately.” 

“Ah, well, ancient magistrates and red lyrium dragons take the fun out of life. I’ll get over it.” Varric could always brighten her day.

“Are you ready? Our appointment waits on the ramparts.” Varric lead them out the suite. 

Varric took Evelyn to a quiet location high up in Skyhold. Moments later he turned her attention to a handsome man walking down the steps, “Inquisitor, meet Hawke, the Champion of Kirkwall.”

The Chantry banned Varric's book, 'The Tale of the Champion', from the Circles, which only spurred everyone to smuggle copies for any mage who wished to read it. Hawke and his gang of misfits were cult heroes. 

The Champion smiled kindly, extending his hand in greeting. “Pleasure to meet you. Inquisitor.”

“Likewise.” She responded. Her fantasies of a larger than life man who defied the Chantry and killed darkspawn with the wave of his hand disappeared. Face to face she saw a man, a good man, and most important, a mage who never lived in the Circle.

"Tell me it's true: You lived outside the circle your entire life. Your father, who was a mage, left the circle, married and had a family. You learned magic from your father. No one turned into an abomination. No one accidentally burned the house down."

"You sound like that's impossible."

"That is what the Circle tells us. If it is possible, the Circle doesn't want us to know."

"It's possible and the Chanty doesn't want you to know." The Champion confirmed, "My father was a mage. He and my mother raised three children: two with magic and one without. We had a wonderful life on a farm...until the blight. We were forced to flee and ended up in Kirkwall. I'd like a family too but Isabela isn't real keen on kids. I may have to pick up a couple of urchins off the street if I want kids. Now if you're thinking of a family, Inquisitor, the world needs saving....its duty first."

“Does all this ever get easier?” Evelyn finely had someone to answer that question.

“I’ll let you know.” Despite his honorary title and heroic deeds, Hawk was a fugitive, hiding since the Kirkwall Chantry explosion. Dispite his heroic efforts in Kirkwall, his association with Anders, the mage who blew up the Kirkwall Chantry, earned him a fugitive status. 

“You and Varric fought Corypheus?” She turned the conversation to the point.

“Fought and killed. Varric, Fenris, Anders and I found the Grey Warden prison where they magically imprisoned Corypheus. He attempted to escape by influencing blight infected dwarfs. Corypheus got into Anders head, tried to take him over. I worried I’d have to kill Anders.

"In the end we killed Corypheus, his body lay at my feet. He was dead. Very dead. If Corypheus is alive and the Wardens have disappeared, they may be under his influence, like Anders. Corypheus influenced blight infected dwarfs. I suspect Grey Wardens may be at risk.”

“Can we break a connection between Corypheus and the Grey Wardens? Did Anders break free?

“Once Corypheus died, he no longer had power over Anders, so the answer seems to be yes.”

“You don’t sound so sure.”

“I worry for Anders. If Corypheus is out there Anders may be vulnerable as are all Grey Wardens.”

“Where is Anders?” 

“We parted ways after we defeated Meredith. He’s in hiding. He didn’t tell me where and I haven’t heard from him. Varric?” Hawk looked to Varric for an answer.

“Not a peep or meow.” Varric said.

“I didn’t come here with just bad news, I've a friend in the Grey Wardens who has more information. Warden Loghain hasn’t disappeared like the other Grey Wardens, he's hiding in a cave near Crestwood. You and I need to see him.”

“May I ask something about Anders? People expected you to kill Anders for blowing up the Chantry, but you didn’t. Why did you let him go?” 

Hawke thought for a moment, “Don’t misunderstand, I didn’t condone his actions. I would have stopped him if I could. Violence and riots never solve anything. The fault always falls on a select few, deal with them, hurt them. Killing thousands of darkspawn doesn’t stop a blight. Killing one archdemon does. 

“Anders’ actions were wrong but between Meredith’s reign of terror, and Grand Cleric Elthina intentionally not doing anything, they created a nightmare that begged someone to act, or so Anders believed. He wasn’t wrong, once Meredith and Elthina fell the violence subsided and Kirkwall began to recover. 

The Champion continued, “To answer your question, I think Anders wanted to be a martyr. I wasn’t going to give him that. I wanted him to see the consequences, Anders and Justice, see the suffering and deaths they caused. I told him to atone. Find a way to earn forgiveness. I hope he finds peace. He isn’t a monster, he was desperate. Many people in Kirkwall, especially mages, were desperate.”

"You didn't lay blame on the mages. Why not? Many people say they were more at fault for the malificars, abominations, escapes..." She asked.

"Fish living in a bucket isn't natural. Leave the bucket out in the sun and the fish will get uncomfortable. Start slowly dropping stones into the bucket and the fish get restless. If a rock hits a fish they will thrash out, hurt their fellows. As rocks fill the bucket, the water flows out, the fish panic, try to escape, jump recklessly. They face death out of water or a slow death in the bucket. Kirkwall Gallows was like that for mages. 

“I appreciate your candor.” Hawke's approach to difficult situations was much like her's: look for what's best for the situation, not the easiest or most popular solution. He used good sense.

Hawke added, "Let’s go to Crestwood.”

“We leave at first light.” She responded.

 

Chess  
After departing Varric and the Champion, Evelyn walked to the garden to pick herbs. She spotted Dorian and Cullen playing chess on the patio.

Cullen was one move from compromising Dorian’s king so he offered a warning, “Gloat all you like, I have this one.”

“Are you sassing me, Commander? I didn’t know you had it in you.” Dorian spotted Evelyn in the garden. Chess with the handsome Commander was about to be interrupted.

“Inquisitor!” Cullen nearly dumped the chess board in his haste to stand. 

“Leaving, are you? Does this mean I win?” Calm and cool, Dorian moved a chess piece. “You need to come to terms with my inevitable victory. You’ll feel much better.”

Cullen returned to his chair when she gestured him to sit. He noticed the Tevinter’s move. He countered the move, “Really? Because I just won, and I feel fine.”

“Don’t get smug. There will be no living with you.” Dorian stood to greet Evelyn. “How are you, my dear? I'll leave the table with you.”

Dorian noticed Cullen’s scowl when he kissed Evelyn on her cheek. Oh, yes, the Commander fancies the Inquisitor

"Commander," Evelyn said," You look rested. I was worried for you when we first got here. You were working too hard."

“I'm fine. You ordered me to rest and I rested. There was a lot to do when we first arrived. Would you care for a game?” Cullen asked.

She accepted the invitation. She sat down and began setting up her white kingdom. “I’m not good at this. Two templars dominated chess in our Circle. The looser had to....I wasn’t willing to pay, well…you know.”

Cullen deduced the meaning, yet another tragic mage story from the circle, yet one more regret to bear. 

She noted the pained look on his face, “Oh, no, not that kind of price! I’m sorry. Not all my Circle stories are bad. The looser had to clean the templar’s armor. These guys were big with lots of armor. They always won. So, I’m not good. You’ll win easy. I don’t want armor duty for a week." 

He appreciated the clarification. He reset his side. “Chess takes practice. As a child, I played with my sister. She won all the time. My brother and I practiced together for weeks. The look on her face the day I finally won… Between serving the templars and the Inquisition, I haven’t seen them in years.” 

“You have siblings? Where are they now?” She's surprised he shared something so personal. 

“Two sisters and a brother. They moved to South Reach after the Blight. She tracked me down after all the chaos. I do not write to them as often as I should.” 

She found that odd, “Tracked you down? She didn’t know where you were?”

His response was casual, “I let her know I was in Haven. She assumed I survived.”

“I thought I was heartless.” She replied.

“I may have neglected to tell her when I was transferred to Kirkwall, too. I wasn’t in a good state. I received an angry letter about my disappearance two years later.” 

“Your family loves and cares enough to write. No letter comes from my family. They never will…me being a mage and all. You should write your family more often.”

“Is that an order?” He asked.

“Definitely.” She moved a knight on the board.

The knight move was poorly thought out and proof she was not good at chess. "Have you forgotten all the military strategy I taught you? You didn't apply any to your game." 

She furrowed her brows. "Real life military strategy doesn't seem to apply. Is cheating strategy? Never mind, I cheat very badly."

Much as she tried, she lost the first game. The second went the same.

“Check mate," he announced his second victory. "This may be the longest we’ve gone without discussing the Inquisition or related matters. To be honest, I appreciate the distraction.” 

Her face scrunched up at the second defeat. “I agreed. This is far better than reading reports. Would you consider teaching me chess?”

“Of course, I’d like that. Next week, same time?” Cullen suggested. Duty gave him great satisfaction but it was a long time since he had something else besides work to look forward to. He looked forward to seeing her...as a friend. 

“I leave for Crestwood tomorrow, but absolutely, when I return. We should spend more time together being regular people not doing Inquisition stuff. 

"I would like that." He watched her as she reset her chess pieces. He felt at ease with her. Wait, she _wants_ to spend time with me? 

Evelyn finished putting her chess pieces in their proper places in the kingdom. “Me too.” 

“You said that.” He was surprised that she would consider spending time with him. Tonight turned out to be a very fine night.

   
Preliminary Scout Report  
Crestwood  
The inquisitor arrived safely. Hawk arrived yesterday and is out tracking his “friend”. Due to complications the original three day plan is now an estimate two to three week stay. 

A Fade Rift rests underwater in the middle of the lake. Soon after it appeared locals reported dead bodies walking out from the lake. Crestwood and the area is now overrun by aggressive and hostile dead. Locals are ill equipped to fight back. Trade caravans quit all travel to Crestwood. The town lacks essential supplies. Survivors are holed up in Crestwood. 

Crestwood’s mayor disregarded the Inquisitor's belief that a cavern under the lake is the source of the walking dead, but is allowing her to investigate. To reach the rift the Inquisitor plans to drain the lake. The mayor gave the Inquisitor a key to the dam controls. A local bandit group occupies the Keep barring entrance to the damn. Inquisitor plans to “evict” the bandits.

If all goes as planned, closing the fade rift will stop the walking dead. 

To Cassandra: You are correct. The Inquisitor arrived with one objective: talk to Hawk’s friend. She cannot stand by when she can help. Her new objectives include stop the dead, restore commerce, evict bandits, kill a dragon (did I forget to mention the dragon)…and, if I know our Inquisitor, that list will grow. She can’t help herself. 

To Leliana: Caer Bronach Keep is an ideal location for an Inquisition intelligence base. Crestwood is a crossroads for commerce. Travelers mean information. Give it a thought.  
Scout Harding

 

Lyrium 101  
Upon her return from Crestwood, Evelyn received a summons from Commander Rutherford. Hmm, ominous. Her schedule meeting with him was for the morning so he must require her immediate attention. Or she was just in trouble. Maybe he wants to explain which end of the sword is dangerous…again. 

She took the stairs by the stables, two steps at a time up to his office. Over the last month they've begun to get along very well. She was less anxious talking with the 'I’m not a templar anymore,' and he seemed to move past that she was a mage. Maybe. He probably still worried she could be a malificar, or would turn spontaneously into an abomination. Ugg. 

She knocked twice and pushed the door open. 

Cullen's jaw clenched. Dread binds his stomach. This could go badly. He may lose her respect, or worse, a friend. 

Evelyn stopped in front of his desk. He stared down at a small box. 

“As leader of the inquisition it’s only right you know that I stopped taking lyrium.”

He looked up and she was astonished at his pale face. Concerned she asked, “You stopped? When? How long has it been?”

“When I joined the inquisition,” he responded, “It’s been months.” 

“Why did you quit?” She asked.

He rubbed his forehead, trying to ease the blinding headache that started that morning. “After what happen in Kirkwall, I couldn’t…I will not be bound to the Order – or that life – any longer.”

“Oh.” Evelyn responded. He talks nothing about the events of Kirkwall. “You surprise me…in a good way. Is this why sometimes you don’t look well, like you haven’t slept at all this year? Is that what was going on?"

"Yes. Lyrium withdraw causes pain, tremors, illness, insomnia, nightmares." He did his best to be honest but prefers to say as little as possible so he can get this all over with.

"And sometimes you act....um....not like yourself? One day you're happy I've stopped by, and the next day I'm real happy you're not carrying a sword."

"Is it that obvious? Yes, that may happen." He tried very hard to hide the mood swings. Sometimes his behavior seems to have a will of its own.

"I can't complain, you do your job exceptionally well. But, isn’t this dangerous? Can't this kill you?”

"Templars cut off from lyrium can go insane, die from physical withdraws." Cullen responded impersonally, “As a Seeker, Cassandra will monitor me. If my ability to lead is compromised, she'll relieve me from duty.”

“She is qualified to make that call so I trust her.” Evelyn moved next to him at the side of his desk, looking directly at him. He looked miserable and very unhappy about the situation, "Thank you for telling me. Officially, the Inquisitor supports you.” 

Cullen exhaled, “Thank you, Inquisitor.”

Without warning she put her arms around him pressing her head and body against his armor establishing a firm hug.

Surprised, he raised his arms up and away from her, “What are you doing?”

“You look like you need a hug.”

He was astonished, “Inquisitor?”

She continued her hold. “The Inquisitor left ten seconds ago. This is Evelyn, your friend. I care about you and you look like you need a hug.”

His surprise was undiminished. “Care? Since When?”

She peered up from the position across the chest, “I’ve always cared. It just took time to stop looking at the templar so I could see you.” 

Now more uncomfortable than surprised, “Are we done with this?”

Unfettered she replied, “Almost. It’s been ten seconds since you thought about Lyrium. Damn. Just had to say that out loud. But really, I don’t do hugs so I must be very sincere about wanting to help you.”

He gained some composure and replied sarcastically: “Be careful, people may think you have a soul.”

She was impressed, “Was that sarcasm? Very well executed. You know sarcasm comes from a very deep and dark place in your soul. Varric says I must bleed internally because my sarcasm drips with blood.” 

“We know that about you. You should work on that. You may become a nice person someday.”

“Another! Oh, I have goose bumps. I may be a bad influence on you. By the way, that’s 20 seconds more since…well, not saying it out loud. With that, I think my job is done here.”

He was anxious to unpeeled her from his chest. “The nice Evelyn should show herself more often,”

The pensive Cullen disappeared and her familiar awkward kinder friend stood before her. She gently answered, “I’ve always been here you know…while internally bleeding. I didn’t think you understood me, or what I went through, but maybe you do. Well, I'll let you recover from the hug. I know I'll need a few moments to get over the shock, I’m not a hugger.” She turned and walked to the door, “Ten more seconds, Cullen.”

As she left the office as he said, “Thank you, Inquisitor.” He heard her walking down the stairs. Under his breath he said “Thank you, Evelyn.”


	8. Assault on Adamant

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Official Order. Cassandra's concerns. Lyrium withdrawal. Adamant assault. Falls into the Abyssal Rift. Adamant Field Report.

Cassandra knocked on Cullen’s door. She let herself in and found him sorting through books. She could see he was in need of sleep. 

“Commander, do you have some time?” She asked.

“Of course, what can I do for you?” Books were returned to the shelf before he turned to Cassandra.

“Two things, a report arrived from the Western Approach. You're about to be very busy. But that will wait a moment. You're avoiding our discussion about lyrium. You were to talk with the Inquisitor, yes?”

He meant to avoid the topic. He answered in a matter of fact tone, “It’s done.”

She shook her head. He’s reluctant to share anything personal and his lyrium situation is very personal. “Then let’s hear it, how’s your relationship with the Inquisitor?”

He surrendered no details. “Professional.”

“You know what I mean. What did she say? About you quitting lyrium.” 

Cullen summed up the situation, “She supports my decision.”

He'll never be forthcoming, she thought, “Must I drag this out of you? You resisted speaking to her until I threatened to do it myself. One moment you both seem friendly, the next you appear tense and ill at ease around her. Does it still bother you that she's a mage?”

Why must she persist with this? “No, she isn’t a threat, I see no signs of corruption.”

That took Cassandra aback, “Wait. Are you monitoring the mages, and specifically, the Inquisitor?”

It was a mistake saying that, he anticipated and said the wrong thing, “No, no. I don’t. I don’t. It’s not that. The fear lingers, without the lyrium, it’s hard to push it back. I find myself…cautious with the Inquisitor.” 

She thought as much, he's so determined to overcome his past he misses the obvious, “You drag your past with you, seeing magic everywhere. You cannot protect or serve when you feed your anger and suspicions. But you know that.” 

Cullen felt ashamed. When the Herald is close he's fine, but as she walks away he eyes her with suspicion, “I know.”

“You are not alone in this. She claims she’s over her fear of templars, but she's not. In the back of her mind she still sees you as a templar. Circle issues haunt her. She's terrified of returning to the Circle.” 

“She shouldn’t worry.” He replied.

Cassandra made her point, “You need to hear that very same thing. You shouldn’t fear, Cullen. This is not the Circle. Giving into these fears may cause a relapse; lead you back to lyrium.” 

“Thank you for your concern.” he said.

“I’ve reasons to be concerned. You face your biggest job yet as Inquisition Commander. These are orders to attack Adamant.” 

In the breath of a moment Cullen refocused on the new task. This is it, an opportunity to prove himself as leader of the Inquisition forces. He scanned the report. “So it’s true, the Grey Wardens are holed up in Adamant Fortress. They are summoning a demon army. Maker preserve us. I’ve anticipated this, preparations are under way but we’ve no base in the Western Approach.”

“Last section of the report. The Inquisitor captured Griffon Wing Keep; it’s a perfect location to hold supplies and stage troops. This is your first major offensive, Commander. Are you up to it?” She asked.

“I look forward to proving myself. I shall not fail the Inquisition.”

“Alright then. This will be tough. I believe you can succeed.” she said. She watched as Cullen immersed himself in the report already forgetting she's there. She said what she intended to say but she was concerned. She believed he could do this, but he'll push himself. He wanted to prove himself beyond all reason. That worried her.

 

A few days after she returned to Skyhold Evelyn was already preparing to depart with the Inquisition Army for Adamant. Evelyn made rounds with team members catching up on developments and personal requests. The final War Council was set for late afternoon so Evelyn headed to Commander Cullen’s office. 

Evelyn stopped outside his door. Which Cullen will greet her today? He seemed better for a time after they talked about his lyrium situation, but the day she left for the Western Approach he was on edge. He unexpectedly snapped when she spoke about Blackwall. He apologized immediately. People get angry, she knew that, but an angry Templar was worth concern. She fought against thinking of Cullen that way. 

Evelyn knocked on the office door and walked in, “Just checking in, Commander. Anything I need to know?”

Engrossed with reports, he answered without looking up, “Not at this time.”

Evelyn stopped in front of his desk. He was distant, impersonal. She took a chance anyway. “How’s the….that? Are you in pain?”

Cullen grimaced. Today the headache was bad. He had nightmares but this morning's was very intense. He was terse, “I can endure it.”

“I wish it was easier.”

“So do I" He replied still not looking up. He had no time for this. There were endless preparations for Adamant to manage. So much is at stake and the battle plans landed squarely at his feet. It was all he thought about.

Evelyn hated to bother him but she wanted to know he was okay. She stood silently wondering if she should say more.

“You’re not going to pounce on me again?” He grumbled, catching her off guard.

“Oh! Certainly I could…if it would help.” 

“Must you pounce on me so unexpectedly?” This time he sounded irritated. 

“If I announced ‘incoming hug!’ you’d duck and I’d be face down on the floor. Or I’d end up chasing you around the desk looking utterly ridiculous.” The response just escaped. How is it when I am trying to be serious I end up making jokes?

Cullen’s attempted a gruff-leave-me-alone frown. A human Cullen answered her. “Probably.”

Just a slight elevation in his mood satisfied her. He was okay. She was relieved. Then her eyes grew wide, “Just a moment. You didn’t say ‘Don’t pounce on me.’”

Cullen let out an exasperated breath.

“Don’t worry. Hug not necessary. Consider this a reprieve. Be warned that pouncing may occur again when conditions deem necessary.” She stepped away but then turned around, “And Cullen, despite my reputation, I’m discrete. I won’t embarrass you or undermine your authority. I'll pounce in private and with the very best intentions.

Cullen tried looking gruff as he resume his work but his mood softened. The thought she would pounce him in private actually distracted him from his headache. 

"It's a long ride to the Western Approach. Perhaps we can ride together and discuss strategy. I could still use your help." She suggested.

"I'd like that." He replied cautiously trying not to betray a smile.

Evelyn left his office. Outside the door she smiled…he likes the pounces.  
 

 

Adamant Fortress  
Field Report – Brief Update  
Patience, I am shaken. The Inquisitor, Cassandra, the whole team, fallen. At this time I am uncertain if any survived. 

The battle unfolded as planned, we assaulted the walls and stormed the front gate. Our soldiers engaged Grey Wardens, demons, and Venatori. As expected, to my regret, we suffered some losses. 

The Inquisitor and her team, Cassandra, The Iron Bull and Sara, along with Hawke and Warden Loghain, entered the fortress looking for Warden-Commander Clarel and the Venatori Magister Erimond.

Knight-Captain Rylen took charge at the front gate while a handful of soldiers and I followed the Inquisitor’s team to coordinate our forces inside and provide any needed back-up. 

The Inquisitor persuaded Clarel that Erimon put Grey Wardens under Corypheus’ control. Clarel, seeing her error, told the remaining Grey Wardens to fight for the Inquisition. In a desperate act, Erimon summoned Corypheus’ dragon. 

The Dragon attacked as Erimon fled the field. Clarel, pursued Erimon: The Inquisitor and her team followed. My team arrived as the dragon mortally wounded Clarel. The dragon turned on the Inquisitor and her team cornered at the end of a walkway. Clarel, in her final breath, hurled the dragon away from the Inquisitor. The dragon’s fall caused the entire walkway to collapse. 

I witnessed the Inquisitor and her entire team fall into the Abyssal Rift. I am ashamed to admit I froze before realizing my duties. I peered over the edge for any sign of the Inquisitor but saw only the vast empty dark chasm.

Fighting continues with Venatori, demons and hostile Grey Wardens so I must return to my duties. 

I will keep you apprised of any new developments.  
May the Maker watch over us.  
Commander Rutherford  
Copies to Leliana, Josephine


	9. Adamant Recovery

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fade consequences. A resignation. Relieved from Duty. Civil War ends. Invitation to the Ball. Cullen recovers. Uniforms and dress.

Who do people think she is now? The Inquisitor, the Herald of Andraste, an apostate, a mage? After Adamant, it was hard to say what they thought. Revelations from the Fade changed everything. Andraste didn't push her from the Fade, the orb belonged to Corypheus. She was in the wrong place at the wrong time, what happen to her was not divine intervention.

Solas was angry that she invited the remaining Wardens to work with the Inquisition. _Only the Wardens can stop a blight, but they are dangerous. The Inquisition shouldn't have them around. The Wardens need to be checked, but not by the Inquisition._ Solas never explains anything. 

Didn’t she and Solas get an in-person trip to the Fade!? Solas and the nightmare demon seemed to have a lot to say to each other....in the Elven language. Hardly fair since she doesn't speak Elven.

Solas watches her. He criticizes her decisions. When she first got to Haven he was a friend. Now…now he treats her like she was something entirely different. 

Vivienne was no better. What is her game? ' _I shall crush you Inquisitor under my silky pearl studded shoes while patting your head and saying what a good little Inquisitor you are._ ' Okay, sarcasm helps a little. She was furious about the Wardens joining the Inquisition. Something else is going on there. 

Cassandra disapproved inviting the Wardens under the Inquisition but she respected the decision. Josephine and Leliana remain neutral, neither approving nor condemning. Everyone had an opinion about the Wardens and were all too happy to tell her.

Cullen hadn’t said anything. Since returning to Skyhold she hadn't seen him. Adamant was a massive undertaking. Was he busy getting troops back to Skyhold? Settling the Wardens? Did revelations from the Fade change his opinion of her? He believes she is the chosen, the Herald of Andraste. How will he treat her now that he knows the truth? 

She should talk with him. She took the route by the stables, taking two steps at a time up the stairs. The clerk in his office said the Commander stepped out to speak with Cassandra. 

After a little search near the practice area she heard Cassandra’s voice in the Smith. Inside she found an annoyed Cassandra and an angry Cullen exchanging heated words. The arguing halted as soon as she stepped inside. Looking ashamed and exhausted, Cullen excused himself, uttering ‘forgive me’ as he left. 

Confused, Evelyn looked to Cassandra. “What’s going on?”

“Cullen requested he be relieved as Inquisition Commander and I said no”

“Requested? Why? He hasn't spoken to me.”

“He doesn't want to disappoint you. As a Seeker, I’ve watched over his lyrium withdrawal. He doesn’t talk about his suffering nor does he allow himself time to recover. He drove himself preparing for Adamant. He refused to take care of himself, it was too much. 

“Cullen has a chance to break the lyrium leash to prove to himself and anyone who would follow that it is possible. He can do this. I knew that when we met in Kirkwall. Help him. You can change his mind.” Cassandra appealed.

Between the pressure of Adamant and his lyrium withdrawals, he may be neglecting himself. She picked up a few things from the kitchen then headed up the stairs. Cautiously she knocked on the door before pushing it open. A small wood box flew at the door shattering to pieces. Evelyn just avoided being hit. A sarcastic comment nearly left her lips until she saw his sickly pale face. 

Great Maker, in his rage he almost hit her. He wanted to see if she was hurt but his knees buckled. He collapsed against the desk. He didn't want her seeing him like this. “Forgive me. I never meant for this to interfere.” He struggled to stand.

Evelyn set the basket down and reached to support him, “Are you alright?”

He pushed against the desk to stand on his own. He turned from her. "You asked what happen at Ferelden Circle. It was taken over by abominations. The templars, my friends were slaughtered. I was tortured. The desire demon used my own feelings against me. They tried to break my mind. Still I wanted to serve. They sent me to Kirkwall. I trusted my Knight-Commander and for what? Her fear of mages ended in madness. Kirkwall Circle fell, innocent people died on the streets. Can’t you see why I want nothing to do with that life?” 

"I didn't know." She had no idea what he went through. No templar she knew ever talked about what they saw or what they did in the Circle. They were a tight-lipped group. Great maker, he was tortured by a demon? "I'm beginning to understand." 

“Don’t…” he waved her away. “You should be questioning what I’ve done. I thought this would be better, that I would regain some control over my life. These thoughts won’t leave me. How many lives depend on our success? I swore myself to this cause. I will not give less to the Inquisition than I gave to the Chantry. I should be taking it.” 

Cullen struck the bookcase hard with his fist, “I should be taking it.”

She avoided angry templars, but she found she couldn't walk away. Unsure what she should do she stepped cautiously closer. “This doesn’t need to be about the inquisition. Is that what you want?” 

“No, but these memories have always haunted me. If they become worse, if I cannot endure this.” He trembled.

She stepped closer putting her hand on his chest. “You can. You'll have my support." 

Her gentle eyes reassured him, “All right.” 

“Okay. Please, sit for a minute. If you're going to get through this, you need to take care of yourself.” She set the basket of food on his desk.

“Okay.”

"You know the Grey Warden who helped us, Loghain Mac Tier? Despite his treacherous actions he chose to serve. He sacrificed himself at Adamant for us, in the Fade, for the Wardens. I believe anyone can come back, have a second chance, choose to be better. What you're doing is brave. You want to change. Despite your struggles, you choose to serve." 

"Well, enough of that." She looked him in the eye and said, “Commander Rutherford, I’m relieving you of duty until sunrise tomorrow. I’ll notify the guard no one is to disturb you and if anyone sets foot in this office they get latrine duty for a month. You'll eat a little food, then you’ll climb up to the loft and lie in bed. Even if you can't sleep, you will rest. Any questions?”

“Are you serious?” He asked…testing her intent.

“Sounded like a mighty Inquisitor order, but it's just your friend, trying to help. I am serious about the endless clerks and guards walking through the office…they all should get latrine duty.” He seemed irritated but it was immensely better than want-to-die Cullen.

“Sorry, Cullen, you know I can’t help it. I know this is serious but you’re important to me so sarcasm just escapes. I’ll stay if you like but probably better if I go. If I stay I may tie you up and force feed you…oh, did I say that out loud?”

A small smile crept above Cullen’s exhaustion. “Thank you, I’ll be fine.” He wished she wouldn't say things like that...her tying him up would be difficult not to think about. Not that he was interested in that...but hearing it. Maker. He felt his face grow warm. 

It's the calmest she’d seen him so far. “Okay, then. If I can help, let me know.” She left, gently closing the door.

 

 

Evelyn and her team were busier than ever. Between the Exalted Plains and the Emerald Graves, Evelyn spent six weeks away from Skyhold settling the civil war between Empress Celene and her cousin, Grand Duke Gaspard de Chalons. Corypheus’ interference kept Orlais in turmoil. Once the Inquisition abolished the Venatori, demons and Freeman of the Dales, a cease fire began.

Back at Skyhold, preparations rushed toward the Winter Palace Ball in Halamshiral. Josephine was excited about a surprise project for Evelyn. Liliana went on about potential targets at the ball and who would wear the best shoes. Cassandra just said, “Ugg. Nobles! I’m expected to go aren’t I? Ugg.” 

Josephine expected her in the afternoon but first Evelyn responded to Cullen's note to stop by his office. He wasn’t there but she found him outside along the walk. 

Cullen breathed in the cold breeze lifting over the snow peaks. Despite the cool mountain air he felt warmed by the sun. The wind carried a clean scent. He couldn't remember the last time a scent caught his attention. How long since he noticed the smell of hot soup?

Everything was so open and peaceful. He was pain free for the first time in months. Without turning he heard footsteps coming from his office, he knew it was Evelyn. 

He turned as she approached. “I wanted to thank you. When you came to see me…if there’s anything." Everything he wants to say just disappears when she comes into sight. “This sounded much better in my head.”

She hadn’t seen him in a while but not a day went by that she hadn't wondered how he was doing, “I trust you are feeling better.”

He surrendered all effort, letting the conversation go where it would, “I…yes.”

“Is it always that bad?” She asked.

“The pain comes and goes. Sometimes I feel as if I’m back there. I shouldn't have pushed myself so far during Adamant.” 

“Skyhold won’t fall apart if you take an hour for yourself now and then.” 

“I’ll keep that in mind,” He replied.

He took a second to settle himself, so he could speak clearly. “I never told anyone what truly happen to me at Ferelden’s Circle. I was…not myself after that. I was angry, that anger blinded me. I couldn’t trust my own feelings. I’m not proud of the man that made me. The way that I saw mages...I'm not sure I would have cared about you. And the thought of that sickens me. I try to put distance between myself and everything that happen. It’s all I can do.”

“You’re a better person than you give yourself credit for.”

“I appreciate the thought, but I know who I am. Anyway, I meant to thank you, not trouble you further. You’ve enough to worry about. How are you holding up?”

“Lately? Adamant scared Cole so he asked Solas and me to find a protective amulet. The amulet we got doesn’t work. Varric jumped in because he thinks Cole should be human, not a spirit. Solas came close to….Well let’s just say I’m in the middle of it. I don't want to piss Solas off again. Don’t get me started on the Winter Palace."

“Want to know the crappiest part of being Inquisitor? Someone is always upset about my decisions. There is always one…or more…persons who cannot accept my decisions. Iron Bull said the Qunari choose leaders who can make tough decisions and live with the outcome. I guess that's the hard part, putting up with the objectors.

She turned to him, “I’m sorry, Cullen, I came to see how you were feeling not to burden you with my problems.” 

Cullen smiled, “I don't mind. Please, tell me. I want to help.”

Evelyn was so relieved to have her friend back, “You are going to be sorry you said that…I have a backlog of problems. Solas and Vivienne are always top on that list. Cullen, if I can help with your withdraws, the pain, or the nightmares, let me know. I’m always available if you need a pounce.”

He blushed hard. “Pretty sure it’s not a pounce if I ask." For the six weeks she was away he found himself thinking of her during quiet moments. When the message arrived her team was headed back to Skyhold, he felt better than he had in months. 

“If you asked me for a hug I’d turn fifty shades of red and run the other way.” She said.

“Now you know how I feel. Take a walk with me?" She agreed and he led them on a leisurely walk across the ramparts. 

 

 

Evelyn met Josephine fifteen minutes before the War Council. She's greeted by a table covered with fabric swatches and sketches.

Evelyn’s curiosity peaked, “Wow, Josephine, what is happening?”

“I want you to see this first. At Vivienne’s suggestion, I secured a tailor out of Val Royeaux. They sent sketches for a dress and uniforms for the Winter Palace.

Evelyn would be patient, “Please, go on.”

“We need formal uniforms for Leliana, Cassandra, Cullen, myself plus three companions of your choice for the Winter Palace. I’m thinking a single matching uniform for the Inquisition leadership and companions. You’ll have such a gown that the court will talk for ages.”

Concerned that Josephine, who works behind a desk and talks with the higher echelon of society, might misunderstand the purpose of attending this ball, asked, “You do know we’re gathering intelligence and interrupting an assassination plot.” 

“Of course. As it is, Duke Gaspard is our host and he expects a beautiful woman on his arm. I am thinking this dress.” Josephine handed Evelyn a sketch of a beautiful ball gown.

Evelyn sat the sketch on the table and looked over the other sketches. She pointed to the red uniform jacket with the blue sash. “This one. We will all wear this, including me.”

Josephine was shocked, “You cannot!”

“I may be the Dukes guest but I’m not there to make nice with high society. We're there to investigate, find information, look for clues, and possibly kill an assassin, maybe an accomplice. I cannot do that wearing a tight corset, a rustling silk skirt, and a swishing petticoat. I can't dive under a table if a corset bites into my hip. I can't scale chairs or climb gates in a dress.” Evelyn put her foot down.

“But it is expected!” Josephine looked aghast.

Evelyn pointed at Josephine’s dress selection for her, “This dress requires two ladies and fifteen minutes to dress me and the same to get me out of the dress. I won’t have time for that. I can't change if the assassin is getting away. I can't dodge arrows if I'm tripping over a petticoat. No. We wear the jackets.” Evelyn squared off with Josephine.

Cullen, Leliana and Cassandra entered the war room to find Josephine and Evelyn staring at each other. 

What is all this?” Cassandra looked over the sketches and materials covering the table.

Josephine resumed her ambassador tone, “These are sketches for outfits for the Winter Palace. The Inquisitor and I disagree about her dress.

Evelyn hadn’t moved. “No dress. We all wear matching jackets.”

Josephine stood her ground, “We need to make a statement.”

Evelyn responded, “Our statement is solidarity, strength. We say we know our place and the Inquisition does not wear ball gowns or masks!”

Josephine began to cave, “I just don’t know.”

Cassandra looked at the sketch Evelyn pointed out, “This Jacket? That's nice.”

Josephine made a final attempt to sway the Council, “The Inquisitor needs to see reason and wear a dress.”

The whole scene was growing tedious. Evelyn brought out her sarcasm, “I’ll go naked before I wear a dress. Nudity is very distracting. Everyone in front of me will be stunned. Anyone looking at my back will run in terror. That'll stop the Venatori, am I right? Right. Anyone else have an opinion? No? Matching jackets it is. Is there anything else to discuss…no? Good. It’s dinner time.” Evelyn rolled her eyes at the absurdity of it all. 

 

 

Evelyn entered Cullen’s office like any normal day, “Good morning, Cullen. Is there anything I should know?”

“Not at this time.” He put down his papers and stepped around the desk, “Do you have a moment?”

“For you, of course.”

“Be patient with me?” He asked. 

She wonders what she did this time, “Ominous but okay.”

“Did you choose the matching uniforms for the reasons you said, solidarity, strength, which are good reasons. Or you won’t wear a dress because of your back?”

“I shouldn’t have said that. Josephine wouldn’t see reason so I was impatient.” 

“Do you really think your back looks monstrous?” He asked.

The world came to a screaming halt He doesn't want to talk about his lyrium and she doesn't want to talk about her back. "I have no idea, I haven’t looked. Don't plan to anytime soon. I'm sure Corypheus would admire the handiwork.” 

“Don’t make this decision because of your back. It’s not monstrous. You have scars.”

“I chose the jacket because it best serves the Inquisition. If wearing a dress settles the throne, or saves lives, I'd say yes to the dress. The inquisition isn’t at the Winter Palace so I can wear a pretty gown. We’re trying to stop Corypheus.”

“I make decisions based on my consciousness: what is right and wrong, what is best, what needs to be done. Cullen, I admire your devotion to the Chantry. Your faith guides you. This is where we differ. I don’t pray to Andraste to tell me what to do. I trust the Maker gave me the knowledge and life experience to make the right choice. Oh, there I go being all serious. Did that answer your question or did I go on again?

Cullen smiled, “Yes".

“I answered your question or I went on again?" She asked.

He smiled a bit more, “Still yes.”


	10. The Winter Palace

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wicked business. A balcony dance. Candidates for Divine. Walk across the ramparts.

The Winter Palace is wicked business. A populous in peril, a society at stake, yet I find myself dodging nobles while the Inquisitor and her team dodge demons, daggers and Venatori. Women and men skulking about shooting lascivious looks luring like the desire demon at Kinloch Circle. Offers of marriage, coin for sex. A suggestive “date” in a quiet corner. Bottom-grabbers testing my interest and patience. I’d rather dodge daggers than admirers. 

Maybe overt sexual solicitations are part of Orlais society, but as a faithful of Andraste, the whole business is embarrassing. Fellow Templars misconstrue my refusal to visit brothels. Their right to choose for themselves. I chose service to the Chantry. Should I be worthy, I'd find a woman to give my mind, body and soul. A woman to love who returns that love. A precious dream thought of more and more often. 

Cullen was greatly relieved the duchess was finely unmasked as the assassin, working for the glory of Corypheus, of course. The sooner the Inquisition finished with the palace the better. 

After Empress Celene’s speech he steered clear of the celebration. He coordinated help to the injured and oversaw soldier’s security duties. The hour was far past the peak of night when he returned to the ballroom only to find the drunken celebration still underway. 

No one seem to know the Inquisitor’s location. Under the guise of security he got Leliana to reveal Evelyn was hiding out on a balcony. 

“There you are,” he announced himself, “Everyone’s looking for you. Are you alright?” He reached out and touched her shoulder. Lately his hand sought her shoulder, back and arm without him thinking about it. 

“I feel rotten to the core.” Seeking a bit of peace, the balcony offered a clear night sky instead of silk and masks.

“I don’t understand, we saved the Empress and shut down yet another of Corypheus’ insane schemes.”

“It’s playing the game,” she explained, “Surprise is a great move, the court wasn't expecting us. We looked like easy pickings. We prevailed, but everyone’s game complicated our every step. Nothing kind or nice or right about it. My parents delighted in playing opponents and friends to ruin and despair all to get ahead.” 

“Wow, much too serious. Not supposed to show that side. Let's start over. We foiled an assassination, took out a dangerous Venatori cell, and arrested an insane royal cousin. All without a single drop of blood on the Empress’s shiny ballroom floor…not saying the kitchen won’t be a surprise, but overall, a good night.”

Her humor hints what truly pains her, it’s rare to hear what’s really behind the sarcasm. She should teach him the art of sarcasm so he can talk about his nightmares without letting anyone know about the terrors that stalk him in the night. “I know I shouldn’t, but I was worried for you.”

The final battle was pretty tight, but the duchess’s deadly bow couldn’t match Cole’s deadly daggers. “Why would you worry?”

“Because the court and all those nobles have no idea what transpired tonight, but I do. They've no idea how brave you are.” Carnage was expected at Adamant, but the massacre in the servant’s quarters was disturbing. 

She saw a kindness in his eye she'd never seen before. “There you go again, being nice to me.”

The orchestra started up a new song. “I probably won’t get another chance like this so I must ask, may I have this dance, my lady?”

Wow, this is very romantic, she thought. “My Lady? You do remember my noble family disowned me? I'm just an apostate. And I thought you didn’t dance?”

“For you, I’ll try.” Cullen bowed and offered his hand. He gently pulled her into the middle of the floor. He felt her surrender to his lead. The night air was cool but he felt a warmth all over his body. He turned them about the balcony without stepping on toes. 

She sighed at the very long day, the very difficult evening, and the even longer night activities. Do Orlesians ever sleep? With no thought except it felt natural, she leaned against his chest wrapping her arm around his waist. She sighed as she rested her head on his shoulder and said, “Thanks, Cullen.”

His breath caught in his throat. Thirty years old and he's never danced with a woman. No woman's held him in such a tender manner. Briefly he was unsure where to put his free arm only to find a perfect place further around her back. He could not believe he was holding her. 

Evelyn was unlike anyone he knew, good and bad. She had personal issues that may or may not been addressed, humor that could harm or charm. She’s unaware of her talent to lead. She couldn’t walk past a person in need without helping. She's generous with her coin. She liked the most intolerable people. She is lovely, heart and soul. A lightness filled his chest.

Stop. This is torture. She is the Inquisitor and the Herald of Andraste. Ahead the Inquisition faces dangerous obstacles. His full attention was needed. She was…a distraction. As much as he dreams of more, she cannot be his. She must only be a friend, a friend he's come to depend upon. 

Cullen looked down at the woman leaning against his chest, “You aren’t falling asleep on me, are you?”

“I’m tired enough, assuming you’d hold me up. Seems a delightful place to sleep.” If she looked up she’d find him blushing. 

When the music ended Cullen offered escort back into the ball room. 

As they enter the palace she whispered, “Did you notice Josephine glaring at me all evening? She’s still mad I didn’t wear a dress.”  
 

.

After the events at the Winter Palace the Inquisition’s reputation grew. All of Thedas looked to the Inquisition's promise to end chaos and restore order. Petitions and requests from cities, nobles, politicians, scholars and elf clans kept Inquisition forces busy with investigations, conflicts, searches, apprehending, and defeating everything from darkspawn to a hack writer. Even the Chantry regarded the Inquisition with respect.

During her afternoon conference with Leliana, Evelyn brought the subject up, “The Chantry finely recognizes the Inquisition so you and Cassandra are considered for the next Divine." Evelyn then added very sarcastically, "Does the Herald of Andaste rise above consideration?” 

“The Chantry looks first to the former Divine's Left and the Right Hand. There may be other candidates. Don't feel slighted. The Chantry holds you in great regard, even if you are a mage in a very powerful position.” Leliana said.

“Not forgetting that for a second! Dorian asked me if anyone's made an attempts on the mage Inquisitor life.” 

“Oh, it’s nothing you need to worry about.” Leliana said.

“Dear Maker, there were attempts?” 

“People with power have risks. Nothing will happen to you. I’m delighted you and Cullen are close. I dare say he has a great interest in your welfare and he's a formidable fighter.”

"The Commander? We're friends but to him I'm still a potential abomination. He'll never look past the magic stuff."

"I don't think you realize how much he admires you." Leliana replied.

“Is there anything you don’t know?” She asked a bit irritated

“As spymaster it's my job to know everything about you. I just learned you bought a cabin near Haven and set up the young Cecilia as caretaker." 

“Do you know the color of my socks?” 

“Keeping you safe is a job I take very seriously. Not just because you’re the Inquisitor. You’ve done a lot of good and I’ll see you do more in the years to come. And your socks are black.” 

"All my socks are black!" Evelyn retorted.

 

.

Leliana prompted Evelyn to think about the Chantry's future. A new Divine meant a restored Chantry and that meant bringing back the Circles. According to the Chantry, a mage cannot hold a position of power or office. They would insist she resign. She would end up in a Circle. She could lose everything. 

Evelyn found herself headed to Cullen’s office. At this hour a thousand clerks would be wandering through his office. No such thing as an honest conversation with them marching in and out.

She found Cullen busy at his desk when she entered. Since the Winter Palace they spent more time together discussing strategy, eating meals, playing chess and walking the ramparts. He welcomed her conversations, and listened to her concerns. 

She found herself thinking more and more about him. She felt a strong attraction. Could there be more? He's an ex-templar but there is no such thing as an ex-mage. Could he accept her as a mage?

"Is there something you need, Inquisitor...Evelyn? He asked as she began walking aimlessly around. Regardless of why she was there, he was glad she came by.

“You look well today. No headache?" She asked absently.

"I'm well. No headache." He said as he pushed aside the reports. “Is there something I can do for you?”

"Cullen, when a new Divine is elected the Circles will be restored. Will there be reforms? Ever?" She asked.

"Reforms?"

"You were a templar. You were in Kirkwall. You saw how things were in the Circle. Shouldn't things change?" She stopped and looked him straight in the eye. "Do you truly believe I could become an abomination?"

"Any mage can become an abomination." 

Evelyn shook her head before continuing, "You believe that because the Chantry says. So I must be watched by templars my whole life. What if the Chantry is wrong? Ostwick Circle kept records tracking abominations. Most abominations happened before a new initiate began training, often on the trip to the Circle. The second most often it happened was during the Harrowing while a mage was in the fade. Abominations occurring to mages after a Harrowing happened rarely and always under extraordinary circumstances. Extreme emotional situations like abuse, desperation or torture. I experienced cruelty in the Circle and I was tortured by templars, yet I stand here NOT an abomination.

"I don't abuse my magic. I have control of myself. I've passed my Harrowing, mastered my magic yet I am destined to live the rest of my life in the Circle. I can't have a romance, love, marriage, a family, children or a life because the Chantry can't...no won't look at its own records to see what is and isn't so."

Cullen listened patiently, not sure of what to say.

"Do you understand? I have no hope to be anything but your friend because I am a mage. I am absolutely miserable about that...but still not an abomination."

A long silence hung between them before he spoke, "Take a walk?"

"Of course." She said deciding this little chat was going nowhere.

They left his office and began walking across the ramparts.

“Nice weather we’re having.” He mumbled rubbing his neck. The door was open but his confidence waned.

“What did you say?” 

He pulled ahead. Very nervously he said, “I didn’t know what I would say in this situation.” His eyes were pleading and vulnerable.

“What situation?” She asked as she came to a complete stop. She leaned back against the wall realizing that none of this was going well. What was she thinking? 

He stepped cautiously to her. “You’re the Inquisitor and we’re at war…but I want to.” He inched closer, drawing up courage, looking at her lips, wanting, yet so hesitant. Inches seemed like miles. He slowed to a stop. 

Great Maker. Is he thinking of kissing me? Now she's nervous. Should she say something to break the tension or stand there like a clod? Say something. He's waiting for you to say something!

“I’m still here.” Oh, clever, downright clever. Her heart was pounding in her chest. She was completely unnerved as he stared intently at her lips. Wanting winning over caution she saw him move yet closer. She might faint at the thought of kissing him. 

Just then, in a fatally grand comical moment, one of the thousand clerks who constantly walks through his office, one of Leliana’s, proud he can track a nug in the Deep Roads while blind folded, has tracked Commander Rutherford far from his office. The clerk held out the report to Cullen.

Cullen growled at the clerk to take the report to his office. The clerk stood dumbfounded. Cullen repeated himself, growling louder, followed by a “NOW!”

That’ll kill the moment, she guessed, icy cold water all over the place. Romance crushed to pieces, dashed on the rocks, chance of kiss zero. He'll run to his office shutting himself away and she won’t see him until Corypheus falls. 

Cullen's instinct told him to end this foolish effort. But he may never have the courage again. They could both die tomorrow in service to the Inquisition. He carelessly threw caution to the wind, willingly accepting the consequences. He took her face in his hands as he held her against the wall. He pressed into her lips determined to get that first kiss, the most important kiss of his life. This may be the last opportunity ever or the next interruption would be Corypheus himself. 

Carefully he pulled back from the kiss. At first he was mortified of his behavior, but then was overcome with the sensation of finally kissing her. Blushing with embarrassment but relieved to accomplish the task he said, “That was nice.”

Nice was an odd assessment but she wouldn’t stand another moment if he hadn’t kissed her. “If I never see another clerk for the rest of my life I will be happy…and, if it’s not too much to ask, may we try that again? I can’t be too sure if that really was a kiss.”

Her acceptance filled him with joy. Her request he treated seriously. The first kiss was not a kiss anyone would want to remember as their first. He wanted to give her a kiss to remember the rest of her life. The first: desperate. The second, just right: a slow full kiss one could accidentally suffocate from because body and lips are too busy to breathe and the mind can think of nothing else but the kiss.

A rush of warmth filled Cullen as he felt her melt into him. She accepted him. He savored the joy of her pressed against him. He silently thanked the Maker for sending her to him. Everything was perfect.

It was a good kiss.


	11. Chances

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A snowy white wyvern. Circle memories. Honnleath. Lucky coin. Post Empries du Lion. Desk cleared. 
> 
> (Chapter includes sex, tasteful but very mature, emphasis on love.)

Vivienne’s hand rested on Evelyn’s shoulder like a mentor addressing a young student, “Thank you for restoring the stolen tomes. You're truly a friend of the Circle. But more, Inquisitor, you brought me a snowy wyvern’s heart. We gave my dearest Bastien a peaceful death. Your support meant so much during such a precious moment.” 

Praise gave way to reminiscing, “Do you know Bastien and I met through the circle? The Wintersent Ball, my first visit to the Imperial Palace. The Circle sent a dozen of us to entertain the nobility. Bastien and I saw each other and it was love at first sight. His wife wanted him killed for slighting her but he didn’t’ care, he followed me around all evening.”

Her attitude sharpened. “Now he is gone I've gained stronger connections to the Council of Heralds and the highest level of the Chantry. Think what the Inquisition could accomplish with such connections.”

Evelyn was aware of the winding trap. “What do you mean?”

Viviana smiled condescending, “Your actions influence all of Thedas: Your compassion with apostates, inviting templars as equal partners, allowing Grey Wardens to join our ranks while they risk influence from Corypheus. Such compassion pleases the masses.”

“I am famous for second chances.”

“As champion of second chances, I imagine you support the Chantry and restoring the Circle of Magi.” She dove deep into her purpose.

Vivienne’s demeaning wore out her patience, “What are you trying to say, Vivienne?”

The Iron Lady didn’t back down, “What are you implying? That I don’t speak plainly with you? I offer my assistance, Inquisitor. My advantageous position can assist the Inquisition in restoring the Chantry to its just position and returning the Circles to their full strength. The Loyalist mages seek only to restore the order and safety of the circles. Great things can happen with your influence and the political weight of my connections.

Evelyn could not maintain her civility, “My Circle entertained nobles, too. I avoided those fancy parties because mages, male and female alike, left virgins and came back sexually experienced. Was your Circle unique in that “entertainment and parlor tricks” actually involved cards and chess?” 

“I hid when templars rounded up pretty mages for those parties. Just one of the fun events at my Tower that still makes my skin crawl.” She's on a roll.

“Interesting that most Circles are in towers? Perhaps it's easier to clean up the mages who jump to their death outside rather than cleaning up the ones who cut their own throats inside. Another fun memory from my circle. Um, I mean memories.”

She squared off with Vivienne, “I see where this goes. As Inquisitor I accept no less than reform but personally, just between you and me, tearing down the whole circle institution to the ground and setting it ablaze is a secret wish of mine…but then templars once tortured me! Have I shown you the scars on my back? Do I go too far? I think you get how I feel. Reform is my only position.” 

Vivienne responded unflinching, “My dear, it is always a revelation to speak to you.”

. 

Evelyn stormed all the way to Cullen’s office. She was red in the face when he looked up. He's never seen her this upset. 

“Are you okay?” He has no idea what happened but for once she needed a pounce, not him.

“No, and I can’t talk about it because if I’m honest I’ll break. I need to crawl under some blankets and try not to be anyone for a while. Can I borrow your loft?”

He was puzzled. “Okay? Need anything else?” He asked.

Evelyn thought for a moment then responded in a perfectly calm manner, “Want to eat supper later?” 

Cullen nodded, yes. “Wait, before you disappear, I’ve Inquisition business in Ferelden. If you have a few spare days would you like to go?” 

“When?” She asked.

“First thing in the morning? We could use a break if just for a few days." 

She nodded, yes, then disappeared into the loft. She re-appeared at sunset perfectly calm and composed.

"Feeling better?" Cullen asked.

"As right as rain and ready for supper." She said. The two walked leisurely toward the tavern until Cassandra interrupted their walk.

"Excuse me, Inquisitor, I'm sorry to interrupt but may we speak a moment?

Cullen left for the tavern leaving the two to talk. Cassandra led her to a quiet alcove by the Smith. Evelyn noticed the Seekers of Truth's Book of Secrets recovered from the now deceased Lord Seeker Lucius on the table. "Heavy reading?"

"On the contrary, it's a delight. I am riveted." Cassandra replied.

"And some think me the master of sarcasm." She noted.

"You know what the Rite of Tranquility is, of course. The last resort used on mages in the Circle. Leaving them unable to cast but depriving them of dreams and emotions."

Inside Evelyn grimaced, "Every mage's nightmare. We have no say over its use, no recourse against a corrupt system who would use it for any reason they saw fit." 

"It was intended only for mages who cannot control their ability. But as you say, that is not always the case. Seekers are tasked into looking into abuses such as using the Rite as punishment. You are aware that Divine Justina investigated the Rite of Tranquility? The proof it could be reversed was presented to the Conclave of First Enchanters." 

"Kirkwall sparked the mage rebellion, but Lord Seeker Lambert's attempt to "annul" the Conclave of First Enchanters was the powder keg." Evelyn said.

"So you knew about all this, that the rite could be reversed?" Cassandra eyes grew wide at the revelation.

"I had privileged access to Ostwick's First Enchanter's private correspondence." Evelyn said. 

"The Rite was part of a ritual to become a Seeker. Candidates go through a month long vigil emptying themselves of all emotion, making them tranquil. The vigil then summoned a spirit of faith to touch the candidate's mind. That broke tranquility and gave us our abilities. 

"The Seekers did not share this secret, not with me, not with the Chantry. The Seekers created the Rite and knew how to reverse it from the beginning. Time has corrupted the Seeker's purpose. Now that the Seekers fall to me, I am not sure if they deserve to be rebuilt." Cassandra stood and looked out the window.

"You could rebuild them better." Evelyn said.

"I will consider it. First I must find them, if they are still out there. We would all read this book. No secrets. Thank you, Inquisitor. I will think on your words."

 

 

Outside Honnleath  
The evening’s darkness cast an intimate scene over the quiet pond. The night sky felt more calm and inviting than Cullen remembered. This place brought him peace and he wanted to share it with Evelyn. 

“This is lovely," she said, "I adore this old rickety pier. Definitely putting feet in the water. Is there anything dangerous in there?” Not waiting on a response she headed to the end of the pier.

“This was a favorite swimming spot growing up, it was safe back then.”

“You lived here?” She tugged off her boots.

“My family lived near here when I was a boy, before I joined the templars. I’d come here when I wanted to clear my head. My refuge.” Putting feet into cold muddy waters wasn't a planned activity but he’s pleased at her delight. 

Undaunted by the marshy waters, she dipped her toes in the depths sending ripples across the surface. “Anytime there’s a lake by a camp I find myself doing this. Only Blackwall gets it, living on the road so many years. Drives everyone else crazy. Vivienne would die before putting a foot in pond water. For me, it’s a private luxury.” She stared into the water contemplating its greater mysteries.

“This water’s so murky, can’t be sure what’s lurking inches away. Hard to resist a swim even if I can’t see what’s skulking about. I’d freeze before any of those hidden beasties bit me.” Her hand reached up to Cullen requesting help to stand. 

He couldn’t remember if the pond was this murky when he was a child. 

“This is very isolated." She wrapped herself around his side. "Hoping to get me alone?” Three months passed since the first kiss. Except for a few weeks away on campaign, there was plenty of opportunity to be alone. He never pushed for more...intimacy. No complaints at all. She could live on his kisses. She was happy with their simple relationship, no need to complicate what becomes complicated with a mage. She could have die from lack of affection in the Circle. Is he still bothered that she is a mage? 

“You’ve seen mages at their worse. Now here you're all alone with one. You've never really said but does it bother you I am a mage? Do you fear that in me?”

“I don’t. If I’ve given you reason to doubt…Of course I have. Whatever I fear of magic, I see none of that in you.” 

“Thank you for saying that.”

“You’re in danger every day and I wanted to take you away from all that if only for a moment. Last time I was here was the day I left for templar training. My brother gave me this coin, it just happen to be in his pocket. For luck, he said. Templars are not supposed to carry such things. Our faith should see us through” 

“You broke the rules? Difficult to imagine you going against the Chantry."

“Until a year ago I was very good at following orders most of the time. Humor me. We don’t know what you’ll face before the end. This can’t hurt.” He placed the coin in her palm and wrapped his hands over hers, safe and secure. 

“Twice you defied the Chantry.” A quizzical look says he doesn't understand what she means.

“The Chantry wouldn’t approve of a lucky coin or fraternizing with a mage.”

Cullen pulled her closer. He held her chin and tilted it up until she was looking him straight in the eye. “I’m not asking for their approval. Just yours.” 

A thousand ways to answer that beautiful statement. He accepted her as a mage and her heart soared. By loving her he was telling the Chantry they were wrong, that mages could love someone and be loved in return. This wasn't a ten minute tryst in a dark corner, an opportunity between templars walking in the hall.

She answered him with a kiss.

 

Another six weeks away from Skyhold. Maybe the toughest weeks ever. The Inquisition shut down a mining operation at Empries du Lion where red lyrium was being made from people. Seeing the desiccated bodies consumed by red lyrium…it was very difficult. It made slaying the demon overseer so much easier: Ishmael was not spared the fire, even if he had a particular humor as twisted as her own. 

Interrupting the red lyrium operation was a huge victory over Corypheus. Disrupting production made everything she did as Inquisitor more relevant, more urgent. In a world gone mad since the Conclave exploded, Evelyn and the Inquisition was making a difference. 

The Inquisition gave her purpose, every moment directed to a singular goal: destroy Corypheus. The whole of Thedas gathered behind her, joining the directive. The effort grew every day, her companions doubling their resolve. She drove herself. The Inquisition was a juggernaut to its cause.

Cullen made it bearable. Never pushing, never demanding, she felt safe in his embrace. The whole trip back she found she couldn't wait to see him. The evening she returned she walked with purpose to his office.

Yes, it was late yet two clerks stood in his office. Passing quietly through the open door, she watched as they gathered reports leaving even more in their place. Cullen hadn’t seen her yet. His skin was healthy, his eyes alert. He had more and more good days. Cassandra and others noticed. 

He saw her leaning by the door. Six weeks away and seeing her made his heart jump. As late as it was, he was happy she stop by rather than turning in for a good night sleep. He quickly turned to the two clerks to settle their business. 

“If you’re busy I can come back tomorrow.” She offered.

“Stay. I’m almost done. Check the desk if you’re hungry.” He pointed to a tray of food and a bottle of wine.

She was famished. She looked over the food and picked up a lovely red pear. She started to pour a glass of wine but the bottle was empty. She caught his attention, he shrugged his shoulders.

“There’s more. Give me a moment.”

When she’s away from Skyhold he throws himself into work. It’s a relief when she returns safely. Their time together gives him strength. He leaned on her for clarity, for personal balance. She eased his withdraws. She was a powerful tonic in his recovery.

Cullen escorted the clerks out the door. He was happy to finely be alone with her. “How are you?”

Evelyn jumped up on the desk. “You look good. I hope your withdraws are easing up. You deserve to be happy."

“Happy is a lovely idea” A pear stood between him and a much wanted kiss.

“This is delicious,” She bit into the tender pear that burst with sweetness. 

He found himself imagining the day the fighting would end and she wouldn't need to leave Skyhold. "This war won't last forever. I hadn't thought much past our survival but now... I wonder what will happen after, where we'll go." 

He spoke with uncertainty, "I mean I won't want to move on from you...but I don't know what you want."

They never talked about anything but the present. No guarantee one way or the other if the Circles were restored. She's sure of one thing. "I won't want to move on from you either."

Her answer released a binding on his heart. For so long he wondered if she loved him. He couldn't ask and he was afraid to say it himself. Too many roadblocks, too many complications. "Evelyn..."

"Oops!" She failed to attend to her pear. Giggles erupted as she tried to stop pear juice from running down her chin. “Napkin?”

He wasn't a man of much gaiety but he delighted in her laughter over such an awkward moment. In seconds, his sober in-control adult self is reduced to a guy with the woman he adores. He grinned ridiculously as he picked up a napkin by the basket. The moment slowed as the pear on her breath and sweet embrium lingering in her hair overwhelmed his senses. He was bewitched. 

The bottle on the desk crashed to the ground.

“Sorry.” He instantly sobered as awkwardness overcame him. If he said more it will be all stuttering.

She stopped his retreat. “That was my fault.”

Gentle eyes reassured him. She sees something good in him, something worthy. She gives him acceptance, caring, importance.

Using the napkin he dabbed up the nectar on her chin. Without thought, his lips attended to a bit of pear juice clinging to her lips. Pears were instantly his favorite fruit.

His life changed as his tongue tasted that pear. His life was bound to beliefs. The Chantry says you wait for the right woman, declare your intentions, ask for blessings, make a promise. In that moment he was kissing that woman. 

She felt the possibilities open as lips shared the taste of pear. A couple of mages looking for a hiding spot, waiting for the templar to pass, get what you can until the next patrol. Until now she had few possibilities. The thoughts were so familiar, but here outside the Circle, she had freedom and time.

His heart opened. Physical restrictions fell away as the right woman was here in his arms. He kissed her unrestrained. His mouth engulfed hers and her mouth didn't resist. 

He pulled her tightly against him, lifting her until she wrapped her legs around his hips eliminating space between them. The kiss became bites on lips, tasting skin, tasting each other, needy to move the passion forward.

Uncertainty caused him to pull back. He took her face in his hands. “Tell me this is alright. Tell me what you want.”

"I think," She was slightly breathless, "once the doors are locked, our choice is desk or loft.”

"Right...lock doors." Unraveling from her limbs was slow work. Reluctantly he separated from the embrace. He quickly locked the doors.

At the final lock he noticed his gloves. They've been together for months, yet he always wore gloves. The prospect of hands touching her bare skin was suddenly overwhelming. He pulled off the offending gloves and tossed them aside. 

She waited on the desk watching his return. He took her hands into his truly for the first time. He kissed her fingers with unwavering affection. 

"Have you decided?" She reminded him.

She was saying yes to him. This was happening. He wanted so much to feel himself pressed against her bare skin. On the other hand he wanted to worship her, let her know how absolutely special she was to him.

He gently pulled off her wool scarf as he kissed her fully, deeply. She returned the favor by pushing off his fur trimmed mantle.

“So…” She reminded him of the choices.

"I think....desk. No, wait, um...I can't decide. Can it be both?" A large ridiculous smile crossed his face as he pushed everything off the desk, paperwork scattering across the floor. He pushed her back across the desk and crawled up alongside her. Lying next to her was mesmerizing. Pressing against her he moaned as he chased the taste of pear through every crevice of her mouth. 

Her eyes closed at the heat of the kiss. His moans sent shivers down her body. She waited so long for this, for him. She opened her eyes and watched his insistent and impatient kisses. She felt his weight and strength bearing down on her. The dominance aroused her yet she feared the templar within. She closed her eyes: he would never hurt her, she trusted him implicitly. She pushed the fear to the back of her mind.

She wore no gloves but all she felt was steel. While Cullen assaulted her senses with kisses and nips along her neck, she felt for buckles to undo his heavy armor. When his tongue found her ear she nearly lost mind and soul. Her hips involuntarily pushed up only to have him push down with his weight. She knocked on his armor and called urgently, "Cullen!" 

He reluctantly stopped the assault on her ear, "Everything alright?" 

"Armor, crushing me...sometimes not pleasantly."

Wearing armor was second nature that he got carried without thinking of it's bulky weight. He sat up and found his armor already unbuckled. She pushed the armor off and it fell to the floor with a clang. 

"Better?" He asked.

"Much, thank you."

He looked at her laying beneath him, very lovely, very tempting and yet very dressed. 

She pulled the shirt from his trousers and with his help lifted it over his head. He started unbuttoning her shirt. 

"Wait," She caught his hands and stared at him shirtless, trousers hung low on hips. "Great Maker!" 

"What?" He asked, "Is something wrong?"

She'd never seen a man completely naked before, not completely. No time for such things in the Circle. She’s seen parts, mostly chests, mostly in the shadows. Varric was right, this was a chest worth her time, but something else caught her attention. She ran her hand down his chest until she reached a crest of skin that ran from his hips and down to his groin. One on either side like a 'V' framing his lower abdomen, hinting of treasures below. She hummed in appreciation.

Except for a few scars, he was confident that physically he was like most other men. He looked down at the muscle line that followed the pelvic ridge.

"What do they call this? Women don't have it. It's...wonderful." She grew flush across her face.

Her unashamed interest fascinated him. "I think Adonis Belt? You like it?" 

She gently pushed the trousers lower to see more of this Adonis Belt. "Yes, I do." She said in a throaty low tone as the trousers fell to the ground.

They struggled to remove her trousers as she was still partially pinned under him. She made him give up removing her shirt as he kept insisting on kissing every bit of bare skin he uncovered.

His hand slipped under her chest band and found a breast. He moaned as he felt its softness. He may have the Adonis Belt but she had incredible breasts.

She wrapped legs around his waist, pulling him against her. He felt the unmistakable moist heat pushing against his erection. She set herself perfectly for him to push into…paradise.

He stopped and looked at her unsure.

“We get ten minutes in the Circle. Have to move things along. Not insisting we hurry.”

How he's held back all these months he had no idea, but dear Maker, he wanted her. He wanted to be there more than anywhere else in Thedas.

The hand on her breast moved down her flank. He reached the space between them, the 'gateway to paradise.' His breath quicken as he touched the warm, moist, silky.... Why did he wait so long for this?

He remembered why. He was waiting for her, for Evelyn, for the right woman. Their first time shouldn't' be like this. It was Circle sex, quick, partially clothed, no time for consideration. He let all this get carried away. It just happened. She deserved more, he wanted to give her more. "Evelyn...?"

Eyes lost in ecstasy looked up at him. "I'm fine, absolutely fine. So ready for this." 

He resisted the urge to close eyes. He didn't want to be just a body. He wants this to be everything: touch, sight, scent. His eyes on locked on hers. 

He pressed slowly into her, feeling moisture envelop him, her body surrendering. Her eyes glisten when she arched slightly, pushing against him, accommodating him as he went deeper. He paused to feel himself fully sheathed within her. He kissed her with gratitude for accepting him. Her body tensed, gripping him.

Breathing deepened as her body accepted him. He pushed further finding her depths. She inhaled sharply and dropped her feet to the desk. 

He pulled back half way then pushed in, easier this time. He continued until he established a steady gentle rhythm, all the while he watched her. He wanted to take his time. Maker, he wanted this to last.

She fought to keep her eyes open as a wondrous warmth traveled from her core. She gave a low appreciating moan and grasped him closer.

He continued long, deep, slow thrusts like the ocean tide returning to the shore over and over again. She met each returning surge. Sustained moans accompanied his in kind. The movement was mind-numbing delirious. 

Her body's response intoxicated him. His eyes closed as sensations over took him. Everything intensified. It had been so long for him. 

"I'm sorry, I don't think I'll last much longer" His voice was breathy, raspy.

"It's alright. We still have the loft." She replied.

That was it for him. He kissed like he was intoxicated. His rhythm increased. Lips pressed against any skin it touched. He felt hands grasping his hips, lips on his throat, his name in his ear. His body took control launching deep inside her. It felt like he was taken into a fierce embrace. He came in hard multiple thrusts, release beginning painfully then becoming rapture. Deep inside he ascended to a rare place.

He returned from the bliss feeling hands wandering his body. He rolled to the side, pulling her close, careful not to crush her. "Are you okay?"

"Yes. Just enjoying this handsome male body."

"You're embarrassing me."

"Embarrassed yet enthusiastic. Makes me want you even more." She said as her hand continued to wander his chest.

"Can I interest you in the loft?" he asked.

Her grin was all the acknowledgement he needed. First, he needed to kiss her again.


	12. Of Things To Come

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Next morning. Vivienne has guests. Spy network. Circle worries.

Evelyn woke to a warm masculine scent. In a world that confines mages for life, detention with no chance of love, a future without family or children, all this should be a dream forgotten the moment she wakes, yet she finds legs entangled with hers and hands nestled by her shoulder. Cullen's scent intermingled with white cotton sheets was unbearably intoxicating. She could live in that scent.

She pulled away gently. Templars who fall asleep during watch often jump violently pulling swords if woken suddenly. Could be a lyrium thing. Never startle a sleeping templar. 

Cullen woke to find her sitting on the bed buttoning her shirt.

“Good morning.” He couldn't remember the last time he woke feeling so good.

She leaned back to kiss him, her hand dropping to his chest, “Morning.” 

He put his hand on her arm, “Do you have to leave already? It must be early.”

Evelyn stood up by the bed. “It’s later than you think.”

Sheets gathered as he moved closer. “Stay. I’d like you to.” He found her hand and gently pulled her back. 

She sighed loudly. “This is so much.. much more than expected....more time, more...everything.” 

“What do you mean?” He asked.

She smoothed his now curly hair. “I've never felt anything like this before…ever. It's impersonal friends, little human connection, not touching, not doing this." 

“So this was alright?” 

“All of Thedas is outside waiting for us to conquer a would-be-god…but I can’t think past this chest. If I think of you today I may forget to breathe.” She ran her fingers across his chest.

Her fingers on his chest brought back feelings from that rare place. Cullen pulled her gently into his lap for a kiss. "I have never felt like this. You are...

“Late for a morning briefing." She stood again and kissed him on top of his head. "I got to go. I'll see you later. Tavern after the War Council?” She quickly suggested as she stepped to the ladder.

He watched her descend the ladder. “Okay.”

She called from below, “By the way, four people knocked on the door this morning. If you’re not up soon someone will break it down to see if you are okay. I’ve been missing since dinner so one knock belongs to the Herald is Missing search party.” She opened the door and left. 

Cullen laid back down on the bed and closed his eyes. His hand ran across his chest where she had just touched him. She left a trail of warmth and his hand followed that trail. She had waken his body in a way he had never felt before.

 

Cassandra interrupted Evelyn’s afternoon walk to the War Room. “No War Council today. Vivienne brought unexpected guests from Val Royeaux.”

“Yep, she just surprised me. Bastien’s son, Duke Laurent of the Council of Heralds and Bastien’s sister, Gran Cleric Marcelline. Proper introductions, a few words of praise. No doubt they're appraising their new real estate holding. Always knew she’d sell Skyhold from under me. Before we parted, Vivienne thanked me for making a good impression, in spite of myself.” 

“ _The Inquisitor was hilarious_ , that’s what they’ll say one day, you watch.” Cassandra said.

“You poke fun at my wit yet I bow before the master. If you don't mind, may I have a serious moment?” Evelyn asked.

“Of course, always.” 

“When I first got here I asked if I’d be sent back to the Circle after all this. You said you didn’t know. So I ask, when the Circles are restored, will you send me there?” 

“You assume the Circles will be restored.”

“Can't imagine another scenario. Mages weren’t freed, we rebelled. We’re apostates. Thedas isn’t ready for a neighbor who could reduce a child to ashes for playing too loudly. The only talk circulating is how soon the Circles are restored.” 

“Dispensations are granted to live or study outside the Circle.”

“Under Chantry supervision, with time limits. Wilhelm, the mage who served under Maric during the Ferelden rebellion, he lived outside, even started a family. Maric was a powerful political friend. Besides him, I found no other mage the Chantry allowed to have a family.”

“You’ve put thought into this.” 

“Vivienne gathers connections to reinstate Circles. Putting me into a restored Circle solidifies her political might. So, yes, I’m considering how to decorate my future dormitory.”

"You think too much about the Circles, you're obsessed." Cassandra said.

"The Circle defines my life. I can't just put it aside and decide it's not important. I'm not wondering if I'll return to the Circle, I am wondering when."

Evelyn walked away from Cassandra thinking she should try to appreciate her short time with the Inquisition. What did the Apostate sprit healer tell her? Mages are good at brief.

 

The Iron Bull spotted the Inquisitor enter the tavern. Needing a moment to speak with her he waved until he caught her attention. She's here on important business but he has some information for her. She'll not understand how important, at least not yet. She's smart, she'll figure it out. 

"How's my favorite body guard? What can I do for you?" She asked Bull. 

“Got some puzzle pieces for you, boss. First puzzle piece: Vivienne heads a mage spy network.”

“To help mages?” She guessed.

“To help her.” The Iron Bull tutored.

“What does that mean?”

“That’s the nature of a puzzle piece, Boss. Alone they mean little. You'll know when it means something.” 

“A tip from Ben-Hassrath?”

“No, I'm Tal-Vashoth, not with the Qun. Got this puzzle piece from my personal spy network.”

“I don’t have a personal spy network! Great maker, when would there be time to manage one?" 

“You have Leliana and me. People with agendas have spy networks. That’s why I like you, Boss. You don’t have an agenda, you have a goal. Your second puzzle piece is The Second Floor. That's all. Have a nice day.” 

Such an easy face to read, he thought. A little line forms by her left eye brow when she thinks. He watched her look around the first floor. Then...yep, the wonderful moment she understands the second clue...she gave him an appreciating smile. Yep, she's in love. 'bout time.

On the second floor, Cullen sat tapping fingers nervously on the table. He thought about last night. Everything should have gone different. From the moment she bit into that pear until she left this morning, everything was rushed, unplanned. A first time should be special: romance, flowers.....but not what happen last night. 

She found Cullen but didn't get a second to sit down before he spoke, “Are we okay? I mean, it just happen. It was all wrong, I should have...”

She interrupted him, “You...you were wonderful, Cullen. I smiled all day. Smiled way too much.” 

“It should have been special.”

“It was...for me. Mages aren’t allowed romantic relationships. We don’t fall in love. It's friendship and whatever can be hidden. I've gotten so little of that...just bits and nothing emotional. While I was on the run, there was this apostate, we had a connection like it could be something, but there wasn’t time. These thoughts, feeling this way…it’s new.” 

“So what do you want?” He asked.

“Freedom to fall in love. Not to be told I can’t because I am a mage. Half of me is elated, the other fears the consequences. Vivienne’s determined to restore the Circles. I asked if the Circles were restored would I be required to go. She said, ‘Of course you would, my dear, you're a mage.’ My skin crawled for days. If I go back I lose you.”

“It won’t happen.”

“The Circles? Don't be naive. Our job is to restore order to Thedas: Stabilize Orlais, restore the Chantry, and in turn they restore the Circles. How is it no one but me sees this?"

“So what do I want? I don’t want this anchor on my hand. I don’t want to be worshiped as a prophet or a savior. I want to wake up in your arms, make love until dawn, then spend the morning, cup of tea in hand, looking over a quiet pond. Ugg, saying it out loud makes it sound even more impossible.

“Since that’s just a dream, I want to know that no matter what comes you will always be my friend.”

He took her hand, “I promise that I will always be there for you, as a friend.” 

He wasn't finished. “Now, it is my turn, right? You’ve been on my mind since the day Cassandra brought you up to the ruins with that terrible haircut. I’ve wanted so long for this. You’re everything I hoped for. You believed in me when I didn’t believe in me, you make my recovery possible. Promise you won’t give up on me. I promise I will not give up on you. Now, I have a suggestion.” 

“Okay, I am listening.” 

“A round of chess or join our friends for Wicked Grace? Josephine may win my clothes again forcing you to stare at my naked chest while everyone looks on. Or, somewhere private so I can take off my shirt?” He teased.

Evelyn groaned but couldn't hold back a smile, “You are a wicked, wicked man. You know I must have that chest.”

“So somewhere alone and take off my shirt.” He said devilishly.

“What have I unleashed? My room, bring snacks.” She countered.


	13. Monstrous

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Book on Elven Ruins. Reading in bed. Monstrous scars. 
> 
> Mostly romance stuff.

Carrying a basket of food and a bottle of wine, Cullen knocked on the Inquisitor suite before he entered. A flush rose over his face. The past twenty four hours were possibly the best of his life. He couldn't remember being so happy. 

He found her sitting on the bed with a large book in her lap, and from what he could tell, wearing only a loose white shirt. How is it he deserves this? 

She greeted him with a delightful smile. He sat the basket on the side table, then leaned over to kiss her forehead. “What is this book?”

“Solas lent this to me. It’s a rare text on elven ruins. Corypheus and the Venatori are obsessed with Elven artifacts so Solas suggested I do some research. Come, sit. I'm almost to a stopping point. Get comfortable.” She returned to finish her reading.

He decided comfortable was removing armor and footwear, but left on a light shirt and trousers. If he undressed any further it would be impossible not to toss the book aside and jump into her arms. He promised he would make tonight count. With a simple gesture he requested room to sit behind her, “I'll read over your shoulder.”

She happily provided him room to sit. He settled down with his legs wrapped around her. She relaxed against his chest like she was sitting in a comfortable chair. How is it their relationship changed so quickly from a polite, appropriate courtship to him being unable to keep his hands off her? 

Evelyn noted that their new intimacy demanded close contact. Their bodies drew to the other like magnets. She understood why Circle mages in love consider suicide rather than suffering the agonizing need to touch and love what is two feet away. Mages in love were often separating into different circles, and in Kirkwall, as confirmed by Hawke and Varric, some suffering the Rite of Tranquility.

Content to have her rest against his chest, Cullen leaned against scented hair. “Is it helpful?”

“I hope. I’m looking for references to ruins in Orlais or those associated with Mythal. Our so-much-smarter-than-us advisers, Solas and Morrigan, aren’t so forthcoming. Solas is guarded, like a lion waiting for its prey. I’m lucky he shared this book. Morrigan, I believe, has a hidden agenda. Worries me.” She turned the page.

His hands wandered gently, friendly. He couldn't resist pulling her shirt off one shoulder. 

She snapped, “Leave it,” and pulled it back up. He interpreted that as fun must wait. 

Evelyn scanned a few more pages. His hands brushing against her bare skin was difficult to ignore, as was the obvious erection pushing against her back. She closed the book and set it on the side table.

He took the opportunity to mischievously tug the shirt off a shoulder.

Abruptly she moved away and yanked the shirt back onto her shoulders, “Stop. This is stupid. The shirt stays.” 

Cullen puzzled at the dark expression on her face. Last night, on the desk, her shirt stayed put. She was entirely naked in the loft, but it was dark. When he woke she was dressed.

Cullen stopped her from retreating by holding onto her arms. “The scars bother you that much, don't they?" He said, not as a question but as a statement of fact.

“The scars bother me, their hideous.” She fought to suppress a growing fury in her chest. In that moment, if she could turn back time, she'd stop Cullen from walking in that door. She wanted to burn him to cinders. 

"The scars are not as bad as you think. Please trust me on this." He put his hand on her cheek, waited for her to look directly at him. He didn't look away from her as he slowly and gently pulled the shirt off one shoulder. 

"See." He touched the newly visible scars, tracing them with his finger.

 _Scars branded in skin. Arms wrap around neck. Face pushed into tree. The skin splits open, world eradicated, pain is everything._

“Are you alright?” He asked. She hadn't move her eyes from his.

“No,” her voice whispered. _Fear runs wild remembering: Faces of the templars, the crack of the whip. Agony roars over everything._ She panics. It's too much. 

"Stop, please." She grabbed his arm. She just wanted to forget, stuff it away. It never stayed away.

“I will never hurt you.” He waited until she released his arm. He moved closer, whispering into her ear, “You are so beautiful. You are….”

 _...a filthy mage, gnarled a dark, angry templar cracking the whip._ Images of the attack flash in her mind. 

“…so kind. You helped when I was in pain. Let me help you. Trust me.” The shirt dropped further as his fingers continued to trace the scars. Finger became hands, warmth pressed into skin. "You're still here, under this, under the scars." 

He pulled her to his chest, embracing her. This was no burden. Scars or no, loving every inch of her is his desire.

He pulled back and witnessed a vulnerable face. He kissed her again as if she was the most precious gift in the world. "I'm sorry if I pushed. I wanted to help. I wanted you to know I am here for you." 

"I know." She said.

"Was I wrong to do this?"

She shook her head, "Scars will never go away, no matter what you say. Maybe they bother me a little less. Don't think anyone gets over torture. I'll never walk away from my magic."

Cullen remembered being tortured by demons in Kinlock, He too wanted the memories to go away, but they don't, ever. “You're right, torture....never goes away." 

He looked at her beautiful face, "Is there anything you need?” 

“You. I just need you.” She returned to his embrace, settling into his chest. They held to each other as if this was their single refuge in all Thedas.

 

Cullen woke to a shirtless Evelyn sitting bedside. She was reaching around trying to touch the scars. She tried over her shoulder, by the side. 

She sensed him watching. “I’ve never touched them. Couldn’t. I imagined them raised bubbly, crusted flesh. You're right. My mind made the scars monstrous. They don’t feel like that.

“That night…the templars…I was humiliated. I hated myself for being so stupid. Too many years in the Circle made me naive. I was tired and wasn’t careful. I didn’t fight the templars or even try, I just let them... They branded me an apostate. I was punished for my magic, my anger toward the Circle, for defying the Chantry, for killing my brothers."

He drew close. “It wasn’t you, you weren’t to blame. The Chantry fell apart. They lost control of the templars. The Circles rebelled. You didn’t cause this.”

“Yes, everything fell apart, but if more people did the right thing, if one templar protected rather than kill, if one mage just…never mind, it takes everyone to stop chaos. Things fell apart, and the Inquisition chases a mad man. So where does that leave us?””

“With a little more time this morning for us.” He pulled her back laying her on his chest. He kissed her with great affection. When he opened his eyes he saw a calm beautiful face. Andraste truly blessed him. He pressed his forehead to hers. “I’ve never felt like this before...you are...” 

“I love you, too.” She said. 

He didn’t miss that. She said it. “I love you, too,” His heart sounded in his chest, “We have time, yes?”

“I have a judgement this afternoon. Until then, I am yours.” She smiled too much.

“I’ve grown quite fond of pears.” He kissed her as he rolled her down on the bed and laid over her, “I had the kitchen put a pear in the basket especially for you.”

“I’m going to start leaving pears on your desk to remind you how much I miss your lips.” Her hand traveled across his chest then followed his sternum down toward more interesting territory. 


	14. Sit in Judgement

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Inquisitor sits in judgement. Unexpected appearance. Suffering a lyrium relapse.

“Inquisitor,” Josephine spoke to the crowd in the throne room. Evelyn sat patiently as a man walking face down wearing a worn mage coat and tattered shoes approached for judgement. 

“Today we bring for judgement the infamous Anders, the apostate who blew up the Kirkwall Chantry and killed hundreds including Grand Cleric Elthina, starting the Mage Rebellion.” 

Two guards roughly stopped the man at the bottom step. The prisoner lifted his face to meet his judge. Evelyn turned ghostly white. She stared speechless for an uncomfortable time. Abruptly she stood and spoke to Josephine, “Clear the hall.”

Unsure of the request, Josephine asked, “Excuse me, Inquisitor, what did you say?”

She repeated plainly, “You heard me. Clear. The hall. NOW!”

People mumbled to each other. Josephine froze unsure of what to do.

“Fine. I’ll do it.” Evelyn's eyes swept the hall, her voice loud and threatening. “Everyone. Clear. The hall. RIGHT NOW.” 

People moved to the doors and those who hesitated found her scowling directly at them, her eyes demanding their exit. She spoke to soldiers stationed around the hall. “Guards, escort these people out, then stand ready outside the door. No one enters except at my word. Is that clear?"

Josephine’s eyes were wide, “Inquisitor?”

“Yes, you stay, and the prisoner and his guards.” She looked to a guard holding Anders, “You, guard, get Sister Leliana. NOW!” 

Josephine continued, confused, “Inquisitor?”

Evelyn glared, “Ambassador, not now. Wait for Leliana.”

She asked the remaining guard to get the prisoner a chair. The prisoner promptly collapsed into the chair.

“Thank you, now, would you please check on the prisoner’s cell. Make sure it’s clean. Find him a clean change of clothes. Make sure he's scheduled for a meal. When you are done, please return.” 

The guard hesitated leaving the prisoner but realized his next order would not be given kindly.

Evelyn stood quiet until Leliana arrived. She pointed at Anders, “Leliana, are you aware of this?”

Leliana gave no hint of emotion, “I knew Anders would appear for judgement today."

“How long has he been in Inquisition custody?” She asked.

Leliana continued, fact to fact, “Total? Three weeks on the road and the last two days here.”

Evelyn’s eyes darkened, “Gossip spreads like wildfire in Skyhold so why does no one know, including me?” 

“Anders is a high risk prisoner.” She explained, “We put out word the prisoner was a Venatori mage.” 

“Who else besides you and Josephine knows he’s here?” Her tone was dangerous. 

“Orlais sent us a tip about Anders. Inquisition forces picked him up near Sulcher’s Pass. Subsequently we've had additional correspondence from Orlais and Ferelden concerning the prisoner.” Liliana explained.

“So I’m hearing for the first time that Anders is in Inquisition custody, here at Skyhold and you’ve known for more than three weeks,” she neared a point, “Care to explain this to me?”

Leliana continued unmoved. “He is a unique prisoner, a security risk. So no, I hadn’t thought to inform you.”

Evelyn was unsatisfied, “So every head of state from Ferelden to Orlais knows about Anders except for the Inquisitor. We will discuss this later.”

“Josephine, about that announcement. You declared Anders guilty in your first sentence…what am I to judge him on? His shoes? Anders is solely responsible for the Mage Rebellion. Your words? Ignorant, uninformed people say this…or people with an agenda, or someone being used. We’ll talk later about where you fall.”

“Subterfuge, manipulation, false information, deception: I will not be handled and if you don’t know that you are poor judge of my character. Take the afternoon to get your story straight. I want the truth or so help me I’ll take the prisoner to the Tevinter Imperium and give him his freedom. Dismissed.”

The guard checking Ander’s cell returned. “I’ve seen to the prisoner.” 

“Thank you. I appreciate your professionalism. Would you go to the kitchen and bring a meal and water for the prisoner? We’ll be here when you return.”

“But Inquisitor, you'll be alone with him.” He was following his duty.

“The prisoner's so malnourished I could put him on the ground by yelling. Don’t worry. Dismissed.” Evelyn waited until the guard exited the hall.

The prisoner looked up with cautious and grateful eyes, “That’s the Evelyn I remember. Sharp, angry yet driven with apologies.”

Her whole manner softened, “I didn’t know your name.” Evelyn stepped down and untied his wrists. 

“You were never to know. ‘Anders’ is a wanted man.” He rubbed his cramped wrists. “I try to keep up with events. What a surprise to hear you are the Herald of Andraste and now Inquisitor.”

“I never wanted this.” she said.

“When does a mage ever get what we want? I wasn't sure I'd live through the last few weeks. I have few friends in this world, it is good to speak with one of them."

She thought in retrospect, trying to figure out how this situation came to be. “Someone put great effort to put you in front of me. Someone trying to discredit the Inquisition. Any judgement is doom. A mage executes the hero of the Kirkwall rebellion – Doom. A mage lets the mass murder off with a slap on the wrist – Doom. Prisoner escapes – Inquisition is weak. – Doom. Someone's playing the Game and stacking the cards.”

Anders understood, “It’s an impossible impasse. I accepted my fate a long time ago. Since Kirkwall I’ve kept busy, helping when I could, atoning in small ways, waiting for this moment. Death or life in prison. I don’t want either but I accept whatever you must do. Or, if you need a personal servant, I’ll look busy long enough for everyone to forget me. 

A smile passed across her face and she gifted him with a little sarcasm, “Oh, stop. First time I'd step from the room you’d escape out the balcony. Here's your guard. I’ll see you’re cared for, with dignity, until we figure this out. Apparently it’s my job to shift through shitty situations.”

 

 

War Council  
Anders safely in his cell, Evelyn spent the next few hours composing herself and thinking about the situation.

She arrived in advance of the council meeting, preferring to watch others arrive rather than be glared at as she stepped in the door. Leliana and Josephine arrived together and remained quiet. Cassandra and Cullen arrived next. By the blissful look on Cullen’s face, possibly unaware of events just several hours past. Evelyn spoke quickly before everyone settled.

“My behavior was atrocious. I was unprofessional and I treated you in a manner unbecoming of my position. As a courtesy, I will not attempt to justify myself.” 

Cullen looked around realizing he missed something. “Did something happen at the judgement? No one said anything.”

“We understand that you are guarded, when it comes to the Circle…” Josephine offered.

“You cleared the room before you lost your temper.” Leliana said.

“That’s minimizing it.” Evelyn replied. “How I feel must wait. Anders is the subject. More is going on than we see.”

Cullen was blindsided, “Anders? Anders is here?”

Josephine got Cullen caught up, “Anders was brought before the Inquisition for judgment. The Inquisitor stopped everything and cleared the room. Now you know as much as we do.” 

Leliana returned to the subject of Anders, “Do you want to start or shall I?”

"I'll start." Evelyn began an uneasy confession. “You need to know something. I know Anders. Personally. He was with the apostates who saved me. You know the story: Templars tortured me, apostates showed up, killed all the templars, took me for healing. Anders was the spirit healer who fixed me up. I never knew his name. While I was with the apostates, he and I, Anders, became very close.”

“No, don’t say…” The blood in Cullen's face drained away as he felt his whole life crashed into a thousand hopeless pieces. A knife sank deep into his heart and then twisted. The effect, devastating. 

Evelyn hadn't considered the effect on Cullen but in a split second she saw it in his eyes. Despite the consequences, she continued, “For the brief time Anders and I had a comforting emotional relationship. I’ve never told anyone. If someone gets this information, or already has it, it could be used to manipulate me or hurt the Inquisition, therefore you need to know.”

“That's a surprise and I am rarely surprised.” Leliana admitted.

“This situation is about a mage Inquisitor judging the apostate Anders. I believe Anders is in front of the Inquisition to the benefit of an outside party.” Evelyn said.

Leliana was horrified she missed it, “Blindsided. Postponing judgement was wise. We need to figure out the motive behind this.” 

“Thoughts?” Evelyn looked around the table.

“This is about politics, right Leliana?” Josephine asked.

“This is the Game and Anders is a pawn.” Leliana deducted. 

“I see that. We've been set up.” Josephine agreed.

Evelyn nodded, “Absolutely.”

Leliana looked closer, “Had anyone else found Anders he be dead, not captured. For some reason the soldiers who found him didn't kill him, they gave him to the Inquisition. Right there is evidence outside influence is at play. Who benefits from Anders capture?” 

Evelyn ask Leliana, “Who sent the tip about Anders?”

“Orlais through correspondence. Naturally I returned correspondence to the Empress acknowledging the tip. Her response was unusual. She wrote little, which is unlike the Empress. She usually writes several paragraphs praising the Inquisition. If someone else handled the correspondence she may not know about Anders. The inquisition acting without her acknowledgement could be used against us.”

“Manipulation is at play. You and Cullen had dealings with Anders?” Evelyn asked.

“The Divine sent me to Kirkwall to investigate a threat. When I spoke to Hawke I met Anders. After what happen in Kirkwall I admit I loathed the man. Secretly I hoped you'd execute him. Forgot that you don't execute anyone. I was being manipulated. As are you, Commander.”

His voice boomed uncontrolled, “I want justice for Kirkwall so that means I am being manipulated?”

“This outrage and anger says someone did a right good job.” Leliana understood every bit of Cullen's anger. 

His rage continued but directed at Evelyn, “Plainly I’ve been kept in the dark. I’ve been manipulated.” 

“This is familiar." Leliana said, "Blind rage. You acted just like this when we found you imprisoned in the Circle Tower. Don’t get caught up. This isn’t about magic or mages or a malificar." 

The reminder of his torture sunk deep into his being and a heat rose up, “You don’t know how I feel.” His words were terse, compacted in anger.

“This is about the Inquisition. Our influence threatens someone.” Evelyn tried shifting the conversation away from Cullen. Her personal feelings must wait.

“Then hand Anders over to the Chantry for his role in Kirkwall. Get him out of here before he hurts anyone else.” His anger became a desperate plea. 

“As head of the Inquisition, I decide. We do nothing in haste. We gather information, check in with our allies. The Inquisition cannot be dragged down or destroyed by this for acting blindly. We act as the Inquisition should, we are here to restore order and sanity.”

Leliana turned to Cullen, “Commander, do you have something to add?

“Nothing.” Cullen simmered with no expression.

Leliana took the lead, “Then to work. We know the game. Someone's queen is threatened so Anders is the sacrifice to win. It’s a dangerous game we play.”

"Oh, Great Maker and his Bride!" The revelation hit Evelyn. "The Iron Bull game me something, handed me a puzzle piece. Remind me to buy him his own dragon." In an instant she knew the catalyst. 

"And?" Leliana.

"We look at Vivienne." 

Leliana's mouth dropped at the realization how very far Vivienne was willing to go to win. As clear as a tree in daylight and she missed it entirely. "Such a clever move, dearest Vivienne. We're all looking at Anders. Inquisitor, your affection for Anders kept us from stepping into a mess."

“Leliana, I’d like to look at that correspondence right away. Are you available?" she asked. 

“Of course, Inquisitor, at your service.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please forgive my grammar and spelling. Corrections on going.


	15. Final Judgement

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A conspiracy. Cullen fights a relapse. Push to Arbor Wilds. Eluvian. The Well of Sorrows. Facing justice.

Into the late evening, Leliana and Evelyn carefully reconstructed the details that brought Anders to Skyhold. It was not a large conspiracy. They agreed one single creature orchestrated everything. 

As Skyhold slept, Evelyn departed Leliana’s tower office, down to the quiet main hall. Her shoulders felt heavier. A day ago Corypheus was her greatest concern, followed by a fear of returning to the Circle. Yesterday she had Cullen’s love. 

An exasperated grunt escaped over a decision where to sleep. The last two nights, in Cullen’s arms, the most wonderful of her life. Absolutely not tonight. The Inquisitor suite was too big, too lonely. She missed sharing a tent with friends. To the women’s barracks she walked.

The night wasn't kind. Restless, unable to sleep, she listened to the women’s soft snores. She didn't mind. Templar’s clanking armor filled the Circle’s nights as they searched for signs of possession and demons. Not once in fourteen years did she witness an occurrence…not fucking once. 

After the sun broke, she stared at his office door wondering what waited on the other side. What does one say to a boyfriend? What are the rules of a lover’s quarrel? Are things over after an argument? 

She should have known the risk when she told the War Council about Anders. She could have kept quiet to protect herself, but she could not jeopardize the Inquisition or let Anders suffer. 

She had no idea how to talk to Cullen. The situation was tangled with personal issues and Inquisition business. Best to start with the Inquisition. Her morning routine is stopping by everyone’s office, so the Inquisitor knocked and opened his door.

“Commander.” 

Busy at the desk, nose deep in a report, he answered without looking up, “Inquisitor.”

“Is there anything I need to know?” Standard Inquisition business question.

He looked at a message, jotted a note emphasizing he was busy. “Not at this time.”

With a breath of courage she pressed into personal issues, “Do you have some time?”

“I’ve important matters to take care of, so if you don’t mind, I’ll get back to work.” It was level, uncommitted, and not eye to eye.

Cautiously, she crafted a question that hung between general concerns and personal affairs. “Haven’t seen you since the meeting. Would you like to talk about it?”

His tone remained level, trying not to betray brewing feelings. “There's nothing to discuss. The situation's getting worked out.”

Pushing further, trying to bypass his resolve to say nothing, she stepped into the very personal. “If I hurt you…”

The response snapped like a dry stick cutting off her next words, “You assume I am hurt. I am not.”

“What should I say? I’m not sure what’s wrong.”

The tree splintered under the strain, anger rumbled the branches, the response swift. “Why can’t a mage tell the difference between right and wrong? Why is it a mage can’t show good sense when it’s right in front of them. It’s as simple as saying ‘no’ to a demon.” 

“Oh.” On instinct, she checked the door situation, appreciating that the office has three unlocked doors. Templars on the edge are frightening. 

“How much thought did Anders give? Blood magic he condemns but possession is fine? He willingly let a demon possess him. Bad things happened. People died. Hawke stupidly gave him a second chance. Now you give him a third chance?” The last bit he intended to drive like a stake. 

The mage in her shook with fear but the Inquisitor responded. “Hawke and I took the time to see the subtle angles, the smaller details. Hawke refused Anders the martyrdom he desired, he forced Anders to see consequences. I see someone using Anders like a pawn to hurt the Inquisition. Stop looking at the mage and start looking at the big picture.”

He found a spot to dig, put her in her place. “A mage protecting another mage. Your big picture comes down to a single mage, you!”

Who was this man whose words just slapped her across the face? “Now I’m just a mage? Reduced to a pathetic mage who should be locked up in a Circle? Thank you for reminding me this Inquisition is temporary, that a mage can't hold a position of power. When it’s over, if I’m not dead, a couple of templars will take me back to the Circle. How can you….” She stopped, bit back the words. This isn’t what she wanted.

A desk stood between them, yet Cullen felt himself towering, imposing. He liked that he made her upset. She tried to stand up to him, but recoiled like a weak mage.

Cullen's dominance sent a shiver down her spine. A memory. Her first year, just an apprentice. She took a book outside the library. Brooks, the templar monitoring the library, needed to feel big, stopped her in the hall, stood over her, daring her. Defiant she smarted off, “Are you checking out books today?” He smiled at the joke then backhanded her. First time anyone ever hit her. How he grinned as he stood over her, how the templar loved his power. 

“No. I hear you, but I won’t believe it. Can’t. I promised to believe in you. I still do.” Fear still pressing her steps, she left the office of a man she didn't know. 

Her words found no purchase, words fell into empty air. Everything Cullen believed, promised and achieved disappeared yesterday at the War Council. Evelyn disappeared as if she never existed. His mind was not his own. 

Instinctively he opened the top desk drawer to find his lyrium. The box of lyrium and supplies gone, destroyed. Every lyrium philter cleared from his office, everything sent to the Templar supply officer. An act of bravery. A test. A test he regretted in this horrible moment.

The drawer slammed shut. He didn’t need the lyrium, he could resist the lyrium. He needs something to deaden his consciousness so nothing interfered with his responsibilities. He wants to stop looking. Lyrium allowed him to be a templar yet remain indifferent in Kirkwall. 

Lyrium didn’t totally blind him. He saw tranquil mages that shouldn’t be tranquil, he was unsympathetic. Knight-Commander Meredith knew his limits. He held to the templar code. He'd never execute an apostate who surrendered, or make a mage tranquil as a punishment. Meredith never asked him to participate. He simply didn’t question when it happened around him.

Anders was the exception. He deserved to be tranquil. He made himself an abomination. He blew up the Chantry killing hundreds of people. He was a weapon, a danger, a maleficar. A dangerous mage allowed to be free.

Anders. Anders and Evelyn were intimate? Is that what she said? Is that what she meant? Did she love an abomination, an apostate who deserved death or tranquility? 

Everything slithered around his head and through his guts. He tried to restrain himself. Best to stay here. If he left his office he’d find a lyrium philter and use it.

The night to come terrified him. Tonight will be the same as last night. A looming shadow waits. The nightmare will return. When he closes his eyes, she'll be there, the desire demon from the Circle Tower, floating above his bed offering tender arms, professing love, promising to wait forever. She’d haunt him tonight. He’ll fight until exhausted. 

 

   
Arbor Wilds – Status Report  
Fourteen days to Arbor Wilds.  
Scout Harding reports no sign of Morrigan's so called Eluvian, a magical mirror ancient elves used to teleport across great distances. If this is the artifact Corypheus seeks, it must be located inside the main structure.

While searching near the main structure our scouts encountered hostile elves wearing unfamiliar uniforms. The elves are not from the opposition’s forces, nor from Brianna’s spy network. Harding reports no elf clans in the area. Unable to make contact without drawing hostility. 

Harding confirms the presence of opposition forces. Small number: 20 Venatori and 10 Red Templars. Their primary activity is evaluating locations for other camp sites, secondary is scouting and surveying the temple. They too ran into the mysterious elves. The Venatori were no match for the stealth-trained elves. Elves easily killed off a number of scouts. Unable to breach the sanctum, the remaining scouts pulled back and are waiting their main forces. 

Confirm: Coryepheus's scouts are searching for a very specific elven artifact, possibly the Eluvian. Our spies overheard the Venatori talking about the Well of Sorrows and the Vessel. Can't confirm if it's the name of mirror or another artifact. 

Judging from the areas they've cleared for the coming forces, they expect more than five hundred troops.

Based on Scout Harding operations I've ordered Inquisition forces in Emprise Du Lion to relocate to the Arbor Wilds. They are ten days out from the Arbor Wilds.

Orlais generously agreed to send their armed forces in the Emerald Graves to the Arbor Wilds to assist us. They are ten days out from the Arbor Wilds. Thank you, Lady Ambassador for making this possible. 

Inquisition Command and forces currently located in Skyhold depart in two days. Our travel time to the Arbor Wilds is fourteen days. If the Inquisition wants this artifact we must push to arrive before Coryepheus's main forces.  
Submitted, Commander Rutherford  
Copies to Leliana, Evelyn, Josephine and Cassandra  


 

 

Judgement of Anders  
Evelyn watched as the large crowd assembled in the main hall. Faces never seen in Skyhold testified a great outside interest in the proceedings. Vivienne talked with two Orlesian Nobles no doubt attending at her invitation. Ander’s fate was of interest across Thedas.

Josephine spoke before the crowd. “Good afternoon, Inquisitor. Today, we look at the case of the mage, Anders. Anders appears today implicated in events that took place during the Kirkwall Rebellion.” 

Guards escorted the prisoner down the hall. Anders stared at his feet as he did previously. At the bottom step, on his own accord he dropped to his knees.

The Inquisitor spoke. “Anders, today you face judgement before the Inquisition. As your case impacts many across Thedas, the Inquisition postponed judgement to give our allies time for input so we may conclusively consider your fate.

“The City of Kirkwall fears your influence on its recovery, and therefore grants the Inquisition judgment whether it be life, death or prison. We heed and appreciate their time in this matter. 

“The Chantry, waiting for a new Divine, offered no answers or opinion of this case. We will do our best to respect the Chantry and its principals.

“The Ferelden Crown grants responsibility to the Inquisition, asking us to consider all mitigating circumstances. We respect their wishes to consider Anders fairly, with temperament and wisdom. 

“Empress Celene expresses a wish for justice for all involved. She looks to the Inquisition to be just in its decision as this affects many. 

“Starkhaven requests the head of Anders, without judgment, trial or hearing. As they threatened Kirkwall if Anders remained in the city, so they look to Skyhold with the same threat. We wonder at the refusal to put aside arms as the Inquisition pursues a would-be god threatening all of Thedas. 

“Anders, following an escape from the Circle at the end of the Fifth Blight, you were conscripted by the Hero of Ferelden for the Grey Wardens. You served the Wardens at Vigil’s Keep, with distinction. Subsequently after the fall of Vigil’s Keep, you traveled to Kirkwall. 

"For six years, you ran a charity healing clinic in Kirkwall. While there you claim to witness a growing abuse of Circle mages. Influenced by a Spirit of Justice, you caused the explosion at the Kirkwall Chantry killing Grand Cleric Elthina and others present in the Chantry, and many more innocents in the surrounding area.

“Discovered by Knight Commander Meredith she granted the Champion of Kirkwall the right to decide your fate for the Chantry explosion. The Champion spared you and asked you to fight by his side against the Knight Commander who invoked the Rite of Annulment without Chantry approval. Following her defeat, you fled with the Champion, eventually going separate ways. Soon after, in the Vinmark Mountains, you ran a free healing clinic for victims of the mage templar conflict. 

“Do you deny any of this?” The question gave little hint as to where the decision would fall.

Anders looked up to the Inquisitor, “I do not deny any of this. I accept my fate and whatever judgment falls upon me.”

The Inquisitor turned to the crowd, “I’ve carefully considered all these events and the parties involved. To clarify any dispute, I'll address claimants to Anders.

“According to the Chantry, a mage belongs to the Circle. Anders escaped so many times that Templars considered using the rite of tranquility or execution as punishment.

“The Grey Wardens conscription removes Chantry claims to Anders. A templar claiming to act on behalf of the Chantry violated the treaty by attacking a group of Wardens traveling with Anders. Chantry agents should reconsider any future actions toward Anders. The Inquisition respects the Grey Warden treaties and will protect their interests. 

“Anders conscripted to the Grey Wardens. Kirkwall, Starkhaven, Orlais, Fereldan, the Chantry, and the Inquisition all bend to the authority of the Grey Wardens for without them the blight consumes us all.

“The Grey Warden treaties supersede all other parties and interests. 

“Anders, my judgment is you are a Grey Warden, you belong to the Grey Wardens. I return you to the Grey Wardens to service with obedience at their behest.” She sat silent waiting for the crowd’s response. She was not disappointed. 

A great mumbling moved through the crowd. 

The Inquisitor stood, stepped closer, pressed her authority. “Is there precedent for a man burdened of high crimes that many seek bloody vengeance? General Loghain Mac Tir is such a man, the traitorous tyrant of Ostagar who abandoned his king to die. He branded the Grey Wardens traitors, leaving many people in Ferelden to die by the darkspawn. Bloody vengeance followed him. The traitor was conscripted by the Grey Wardens who took him into their ranks. I am witness to this man. He sacrificed his life at Adamant, as a Grey Warden, for their honor, so that the Inquisition could fight the greater threat.”

Her next words hinted a threat and a lot of drama, “What of Justice? Does Anders get what he deserves? Here is your bloody vengeance: Anders you are condemn to death by the darkspawn blood that flows through your veins. You serve the Grey Wardens until the madness of your tainted blood drives you to the deep roads. There you shall die at the hand of the merciless darkspawn who will tear you apart and feast on your flesh.”

She returned to her throne and gave her final word, “Anders serves the Grey Wardens and dies a Grey Warden.”


	16. Well of Sorrows

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Security in Skyhold. Cullen confronts Evelyn. The Seekers of Truth. Arbor Wilds. The Well of Sorrow chooses. Solas confronts Evelyn.

Post judgment, Evelyn walked into the Inquisitor’s suite to find Anders sitting on the couch while two guards watched suspiciously.

She worried for him. He’ll live under suspicion the rest of his life regardless of this judgment. “Guards, please take your position at the door downstairs. I need a word with our…with Anders.” 

“Inquisitor, are you sure?” 

As suspected, her own guards remain cautious. “Anders is safe with me. No one will get past you two.” 

“Your Worship, are you safe?” 

Cullen trained them well. They protect the prisoner…ex-prisoner, but they think first of their Inquisitor. “Absolutely, a Grey Warden is here. It’s alright. He just looks vicious.” 

“Yes, Inquisitor. We’ll be down stairs.” They gave Anders an I-Dare-You look. They'd be vigilant….from downstairs.

She stopped them before they left, “If you see Cecilia, please ask her to send up supper. Thank you.” 

Evelyn sat on the couch. “How do you feel about all this?”

“I’m not sure. Am I a prisoner? Where are you sending me?” 

She was proud of Anders. This entire time he’s been calm and reasonable asking for nothing. He's no trouble. Was he like this in Kirkwall? “Maybe this makes sense: Corypheus took over the Grey Wardens. The Inquisition saved the survivors. They agreed to be part of the Inquisition, at least until Corypheus is defeated. You are a Grey Warden. You are part of the Inquisition.”

“I think I understand.”

“Good to know. If you've any problems, don’t hesitate to speak with me. While your here in Skyhold, I don’t worry you’ll run, but honestly I worry people may come to get you.”

“Bloody retribution?” He asked.

“I’m assigning guards to protect you.”

He was not pleased. “I can’t live like that. It’s like templars protecting but instead I’m their prisoner.”

“Starkhaven’s threats are real: hiring Crows, poisoning food, collateral damage. Want to pick your guards? I could send a dozen for you to pick from.”

“And if I choose two very attractive guards?” 

That got him a roll of the eyes and a bit of sarcasm. “I’ll assign very ugly guards to keep you safe while you’re busy with your amour. But onward. You get clinic duty as a healer. Is that okay?”

“Still feels like prison.”

“I’m asking you to work with us. Be part of this effort. For now. It’s not permanent. Think of us as two mages, both stuck here, but not in prison. I have no safe accommodations for you yet so you'll have to stay in your cell tonight.” The unusual number of visitors in Skyhold concerned her.

“Here is safe.” He indicated the large Inquisitor suite.

Evelyn looked at her rarely used suite. “Um…true. I don’t sleep here often. Too big. Too alone. I’m fine with that.”

Cecilia pushed the door open with a tray full of food.

“Thank goodness. I’m starving. Eat up, Anders. Only reason I keep this colossal room is the food is better here.”

 

 

Outside the Inquisitor's suite, Cullen spoke with guards until Evelyn appeared. Monitoring his voice to be quiet so the entire hall isn't witness, he demanded an explanation, “You put that abomination in your room?” 

Great Maker, as much as she wanted to speak with Cullen she didn't need his anger right now. “That room is the most secure room in Skyhold. He’ll be safe.” 

“With you? Is that what this is all about?” The accusation was very clear.

Buckets of patience she had, but that was over the line. Might as well get this out. Remembering the many people in the hall she kept near a whisper, “You go too far. You think I’ve done this, sparing his life, keeping him here because I want him in my bed?”

“Anders embodies everything wrong with mages: an abomination, a danger to others, murder of hundreds, a weapon, a seducer.” The argument continued in whispers.

“Is that what you believe?” How long will this unreasonable anger last? When will he gain control over this? He is not "her" Cullen anymore. He's getting worse.

“I do.” 

“Cullen!” She was too loud and tried to calm her emotions. Great Maker, how can I help him? 

He too got animated so he used his templar discipline to calm his body, “I’m angry and hurt. If he’s in your…I can’t.” 

“Remember telling me about lyrium withdraw, it was impossible to concentrate, you worried you couldn’t keep your mind clear? You felt like a different person? I’d pounce to help you get past the pain. This is one of those moments you need a pounce.”

“This isn’t funny.” 

“I’m not trying to be funny. I’m serious. Where are these thoughts coming from? Is this about Anders or do you believe this about me? You’re twisting around and seeing things differently, like you’re looking through someone else’s eyes. Whatever you think you’re seeing isn’t happening.” Arguing in whispers, she doesn't miss the irony. 

“You can’t tell me what I'm thinking. You don’t know.” He’s in control but his tone is dangerous.

“Okay, Cullen.” There is no use arguing. As a mage she is part of this problem. 

“I need to finish the plans for Arbor Wilds." He said, "I need my head clear to coordinate tomorrow's departure. I don’t need this on my mind.” 

“Then let’s talk about it later with cooler heads.” 

“No. This we no longer need to discuss. Any of this. Ever.” He turned and walked away. 

The two soldiers standing by the door respectfully pretended they heard nothing.

He said it but didn't say it. It feels clear that they…he and she…are done. She looked for the exact words, or a hint everything’s on hold. He said it and he didn’t.

With no choice, a decision fell hard like the Adamant walls. He's right. Thedas was more important. No denying the Inquisition is closing in on Corypheus. For now, she'll concentrate on Corypheus. Mages are used to living inches away from love. She can do that. For now.

 

   
The Well of Sorrows  
Evelyn walked into waters that seemed to dance around her. She dipped her fingers into the pool sending ripples jumping across the surface. Morrigan was right, the Well was hungry. Waters touch her, pleading to her. Solas said the Inquisition needed the Well but standing in its waters she realized The Well needed her even more.

Hands carry water to lips. Water flows into her mouth. The water doesn't stop, it flows and flows from her hands. The water flows over skin, over arms. The Well finds the anchor, joyous welcoming of an old friend. The water runs down her body, down legs engulfing her. She’s drowning. 

Her eyes shut in terror until the water stills, embracing her with calm. She opens eyes. She floats in a great vastness of water. A thousand voices murmur in a strange language but she understands. They want to know her.

The Well gave her the next step in the journey: A forgotten altar in the wilderness.

“Wake up!” the Well whispered urgently.

Evelyn’s skin crawled and her hair frizzled with static.

“Inquisitor!” Blackwall yelled desperately to get her attention.

Her eyes opened. Blackwall pulled her to a sitting position in a now empty pool. Everyone tried to get her to stand, waving behind her. She looked over her shoulder. 

Across the courtyard an angry Corypheus cursed at yet another interference with his plan.

“The eluvian, now!” Morrigan grabbed Evelyn by the arm, dragging her.

The eluvian sprung to life allowing them to pass. 

Evelyn hung back, watching Corypheus fly in the air at great speed. Just before she stepped into the mirror a watery spirit rose from the empty basin standing between her and Corypheus. She waited no more and jumped into the mirror.

. 

  
“By drinking from the Well of Sorrow you gave yourself in service to an ancient elven god!” Solas roared at Evelyn in the Hall of Murals.

Her eyes blinked rapidly trying to understand his dramatic reprimand, 'Don’t let Corypheus get the well, you said, someone from the Inquisition must drink the water. Don’t let Morrigan take the knowledge. The Inquisition needs its power. When I asked you, you refused. No way with Sara and Iron Bull. What choice did I have? If you hadn’t notice, if you weren’t so angry you’d see I listened to you. I trust your advice, I trust you. The knowledge is ours, we’ll defeat Corypheus.”

His anger grew, “No, not just knowledge, you are subject to the Well of Sorrow’s collective will. The Well serves Mythal and now you are bound to her. If Mythal desires Skyhold burn, you may be the instrument. You must wonder if your actions or the direction you move are influenced or directed by Mythal. Your fate is not your own.”

“Why does this worry you so much, Solas? The Well is knowledge, right? Is it dangerous knowledge? Can this knowledge threaten someone? Who? Elves? You?” She witnessed a dangerous fear flash in Solas' eyes that instantly turned to fury. 

Rage imploded as he yelled. “Can you even hear what the well says, Shem? Does it speak in a language you can’t understand? If the Well spoke of me would you even know what it said? The knowledge of thousands of years falls on a child's mind. I have nothing to fear.”

“Solas?” She begged, “You said it would help us.”

He calmed himself, covered his anger but he spoke bitterly. “It will. Corypheus endangers everyone: humans, dwarves and elves. The Well protects you, shields you, but only because it serves Mythal’s purpose. Never forget that.” 

“Help me understand.” She asked.

He was finished with the discussion. He dismissed her as he sat at his desk. “Be sure of your preparations to search for the Altar.” 

“Thank you, Solas, for speaking with me. I’m sorry I angered you. It wasn't my intent.” Reluctantly she gave up the conversation. Something was unsaid, something else other than the Well of Sorrows angered Solas.


	17. Mythal and Dragons

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Altar of Mythal. Morrigan the dragon. Battle preparations. Hall of Murals. Cullen prays.

Life in a Circle is about routine: Day in and day out. Biggest event? Templars slaying a spontaneous abomination? Nope, never happened. Suicides? More die by choice than by old age. Templars bully and noisily clank about, but they are predictable like clockwork. Sneak a sweet from the kitchen, carnal coitus timed to the second, savor a banned book: look out unnecessary, freedom in ten minutes, timed between patrols, timed to the second. 

The biggest upset is a mage facing the Harrowing. Harrowing, tranquility or death so unpredictable templars prepare for anything. The First Enchanter’s favorite initiate turned in to a Pride Demon and died in the Harrowing Chamber. A strange mute orphan returned so quickly from the Fade the templars considered sending him back. No one wants to see a mage walking to the Harrowing Chamber. 

Keeping a Circle calm is like walking on thin ice. Order and routine maintains the calm: treating a suicide like its everyday and the ten minute freedom maintains the illusion the Circle isn’t a prison.

To her advisers, companions and soldiers Evelyn forges forward as the brave Inquisitor. The faithful admire her as the blessed Herald, someone to aspire to. Outside the circle, in the world where nothing was predictable, she was simply a mage trying to manage chaos.

At the Altar in the wilderness, the Inquisitor called Mythal, the Protector and All Mother to the elves. A summoned wisp drew up until a very real and very human woman stood before them. Flemeth, the Witch of the Wilds, hosted an ancient elf god. Flemeth’s arrival disturbed Morrigan. She was suddenly grateful she wasn't the Vessel. Evelyn found it unexpected but after all that’s passed her, not surprising. 

Evelyn pressed Flemeth for answers. "Can you help us defeat Corypheus?"

“The voices do not lie, Inquisitor, I can help you.” Flemeth cast spell upon Morrigan. “The altar’s guardian will come. Master the dragon, and it will be yours to command against Corypheus. Fail and die.”

Yet another test. “So, no promises, right. One more thing, if I may, I drank from the well and am the Vessel, do you command me, am I your slave?”

“You are not a slave, my child. You participate in a greater story. So long as the music plays, we dance. Think of the Well as a guardian or guiding parent. The Well looks to preserve itself thus the Vessel. The Well protects the anchor, too. Yes, the Well knows the anchor. Look to the wisdom of the Well.”

“The Well defends itself? So it protects me? Like a shield?” 

“Not a shield, child. So, a bit of advice, don’t stand in front of pointy swords. The Well cannot dodge. Dodging is still your job.” Flemeth laughed, enjoying her bit of sarcasm.

Ancient elven god carried by the human witch of the wilds. Human carries the Well of Sorrow's thousand years of elven knowledge. The champion of Mythal is Morrigan shape shifted into a dragon. If Solas saw the irony he never said.

Nothing’s predictable so Evelyn must treat the strange like it’s an everyday event. Tame the dragon, nothing new: Blackwall, The Iron Bull and Sara were ready for lunch. Everyday checklist: Got dragon, check. Thousand voices in head, check. Next, find Corypheus.  

 

Cassandra sat on the war table, patiently waiting. Cullen entered looking very tired. “Thank you, Commander, for meeting me before the War Council. We need to talk.”

Instantly his brows crossed. “What can I do for you?”

“The Inquisitor has returned from Mythal’s Altar. This Council meeting is critical. The Inquisition needs a hundred percent from you. Put your promise to serve the Inquisition foremost in your mind. Do you understand?”

He suspects where this was going. “If this is about my relationship with the Inquisitor, don’t. That’s personal.”

She expected this, he’s focused on the wrong issue, “I’m not here about Evelyn, or the two of you. I’m here about you. Quitting lyrium is tough, very few succeed, yet you try. You got better, you got worse, better, and now worse."

“Right. I’m worse. I’m involved with a mage. I’m in a pit as deep as Kirkwall.” 

“No, not because of her. This setback is about you. The strength to fight must be your strength. The inquisition didn’t save you from Kirkwall. You left Kirkwall, your choice. You leaned on Evelyn too much. Evelyn cannot save you from yourself. You must choose to get better for yourself...by your own will.” 

He trusted no one with his inner most thoughts. Cassandra was the closest to a confidant he's allowed. "The nightmares are worse. The desire demon no longer looks like Elissa. The demon looks like Evelyn promising me everything, love, intimacy, happiness. Hard to fight the temptation. Only lyrium restrained the demon. Without it, I’m losing the fight.” 

“Cullen, nightmares are you standing in front of a mirror, the nightmares reflect you. The real temptation is the _lie_ someone else can fix you. That Elissa or Evelyn can cure. I’ve known since Kirkwall you could beat this, just you. Stop focusing on magic, mages, or Evelyn. Step back from the Inquisitor, leave her out of this. Get better for yourself.”

Cullen remained silent. 

“Today, you are Cullen Rutherford, Commander of the Inquisition Forces. The Inquisition needs you, we all need you. The Inquisitor needs Commander Rutherford, not Cullen. Let your strength and courage lead you. I believe in you.”

She watched as words stirred in his head. He'll come around, face this, be the right man. 

The door opened and the rest of the council arrived Josephine leading, Leliana and Evelyn in discussion followed behind. With little time to waste, Cassandra opened the discussion.

“So, you have what you need, from the Altar of Mythal?” Cassandra asked.

“Mythal or Flemeth, bit of both, hard to reconcile…what I saw. Yes, the Well of Sorrows was correct, Mythal had the final piece, a champion, my champion. The champion...Morrigan...never mind that, is a dragon who’ll fight Corypheus’ archdemon, well, not an archdemon but looks like one. Right, his dragon’s a blighted creature infected with red lyrium. We knew that. Corypheus twisted the dragon in red lyrium, but it’s still a dragon. My dragon fights his dragon. If his dragon dies, the soul, if we believe Corypheus has a soul, we’ll call it that, has no refuge. Corypheus can be killed, he can die. We can kill him. I can kill him.” Her eyes glazed over as if was a great effort to keep things sensible.

“Inquisitor, are you alright?” Cassandra asked. The Inquisitor rambled, it all made sense but she rambled. It wasn’t like her.

“Of course, just lots to process. The Well is very loud. Time is short.” 

Cullen brought up the big question. “Where is Corypheus?”

The sudden darkening of the room astonished everyone, except Evelyn. She walked calmly to the window and peered out. "It’s Corypheus.” 

The unflinching Inquisitor stared at the new breach that appeared over the ruins of the Temple of Ashes. She was without emotions like the day templars took her to the Circle. She was completely level headed, resigned to her fate, committed to the course. There was no turning back.

Leliana's professional in the face of anything persona disappeared, “Why, why would he do this?”

Still staring out the window, still caught up in her mind, Evelyn thought out loud, “Hmm, he used the orb. He can’t use it to enter the fade but it’s still powerful.”

Casandra didn’t understand, “What are you talking about? What is he doing?”

“Corypheus could search for another way into the Fade, but he won't because anger steers his course. He opens the breach: I have the anchor, I’m forced to show up. He must kill me. He'll release demons into the world to destroy everything, because I took everything from him. It's just like Jonah.”

“Jonah, who’s Jonah?” Cullen asked.

“Jonah was an apprentice in my Circle. The First Enchanter and Knight-Commander told Jonah they’re taking him to his Harrowing, but really they’re taking him for the Rite of Tranquility. He knew. On route Jonah let go a rein of fire balls, burning everything, anyone in sight. Nothing to lose. Took three templars to kill him. Jonah just wanted to watch the world burn.”

The horrible realization struck them as Evelyn continued. 

“He’ll kill me, but it’s not enough. Corypheus wants to watch the world burn.”

“No, you will succeed.” Josephine cried.

Everyone looked to the Inquisitor for strength and reassurance.

“Yes, I will.” It was a single short statement. Inside her the Well of Sorrow raged a battle she has yet to recognize.

“Wait for our troops returning from the Arbor Wilds. We’ll plan an offensive. _You need backup._ ” Cullen felt as if the wind was knocked out of him. She could be walking to her death and the Inquisition had nothing to offer her. He was sending her to die. 

“No, it’s now. Corypheus is alone. To prove himself. He’ll have his dragon. I’ll have my dragon. This is how it ends.”

 

 

Aware of a growing uneasiness stirring inside, Evelyn slipped silently into the Hall of Murals. She looked at the panels depicting the Herald of Andraste progression from Temple of Ashes to the current day. The final panel, unpainted. The single panel ominous: One battle remained. Solas will paint one bloody body on the bottom of the panel: Corypheus or her.

Evelyn leaned quietly by the empty panel. She'd wait till Solas decided to recognize her. He knows she’s there, he always knows she's there.

Solas continued reading his book on the desk, “Have you prepared yourself?”

“As best I can.”

Solas closed his book. Without turning he launched into a lecture, “Corypheus is no ordinary foe. Corypheus is unique. His magic is unique. He’s the most powerful mage in Thedas, and he is a darkspawn. For a thousand years he’s planned his ascent into the black city, he’s twisted his body for that single purpose. And you, a mere human, his sole rival, stand in the way.”

“Is that why Corypheus focuses on me?”

“Before the Temple of Ashes, his victory was assured. Then you showed. You, and only you, defeated him at every turn: you stole the anchor’s power, took his templars at Therinfal, destroyed his demon army, and you took the Well of Sorrows. You twist him more than he twisted his own body. 

"He’ll not come as before. Be wary, Inquisitor, the lengths he’ll go to punish or kill you. He must. His nature, his very self demands it."

“Your insight into Corypheus is remarkable. You study him?” She asked. 

“Absolutely. I would be foolish not too.” 

“Thank you, Solas, for helping, for staying, for sharing your insights with me. We haven't always agreed on things but you've always supported me. You are a valued friend.” She still wonders if he's here for other reasons. She's almost sure of it. He promised to stay until the breach was sealed yet here he remains. 

Her adoration continues to astonish him, no human shows him such respect, such regard. “You never fail to surprise me. I’m wise to watch you.”

"Not in the creepy, stalker way?" She wasn't expecting that response. She was also surprised when the Well of Sorrows seemed to jump at Solas' words. The fact that the Well could make its opinion known to her was a bit troublesome. 

“I watch you with great interest as I watch Corypheus. You are unique, a human bearing the anchor and now Vessel of the Well of Sorrows. I cannot afford to overlook you. Now, finish your preparations, he waits for you.”

Evelyn surprised Solas with a small, quick hug that ended before Solas objected. “Forgive me. I needed it.” 

 

 

As she stepped out the Hall of Murals a turmoil jumped suddenly in her chest. Did the final unfinished panel disturbed her, or something else? Why is the Well of Sorrow suddenly on guard? And why would she dare to hug Solas? What is going on? She faced Corypheus and his dragon alone in Haven, so what's the worry? They’ve defeated Corypheus every step of the way, what causes doubts to enter her mind now?

She found herself standing in the middle of Skyhold's garden. This place needs a pond. Would really help. Dip toes into cool water, calm a disturbed and fearful mind. 

Her chest tightened, the heart pounded. A fear gripped her so quickly she was barely holding it together. She tried to imagine the sensation of standing on a pier daring to jump into the dark waters. Check resolve, test courage. Just close eyes and jump. Is that why I like ponds? A tiny practice at the face of unknown dangers? Like sarcasm makes scary things smaller. Standing in the Skyhold garden, no pond and no sarcasm. 

A voice comes from the Shrine of Andraste, a voice in benediction. Prayers said aloud, Cullen’s prayers. It’s wrong but she stepped inside the door. He knelt before the statue of Andraste, words shared, not silent.

“A prayer for those we’ve lost?” 

“And for those we’re afraid to lose.” He cannot stand, or shouldn’t stand. He needs to be strong, neutral. He cannot look to her for strength. 

His words about losing someone. Why is this battle so difficult to face? A worry grew immobilizing feet and words. Cullen's kneeling figure broke her heart. No pond, no sarcasm, no Cullen. For a brief time he was a refuge, as I to him. If there are words, they must be words for both of them. 

“Things aren’t right between us but I wanted…to see if you're okay.” 

He wanted to fall on his knees before her, beg for forgiveness but Cassandra’s words bind him, he must remain professional. “Everything is arranged: transportation, supplies, everything you need. I sent soldiers in advance, they'll be there waiting for you.”

She yearned to fix what happened. Speak! Say what’s right or find yourself standing in this spot until Corypheus destroys the world. “I want to say things but.... We promised to be friends but I think I messed up. I asked too much of you. I failed... I miss you.”

“I cannot…so don’t.” Words were harsh but he must. The right path was to stand alone, to get better without clinging to her. Wrong to use her as a cure. 

“What? Be a friend? You helped me through so much. I was that friend to you. When you were in pain…withdraws. I am still trying. I never gave up on you.” Her body felt heavier, asking this hurts.

Struggling against himself, of what was the right thing to do, Cullen can say little, “I know. I…wish.”

“Be that friend. Corypheus stands in front of me...and...Maker, I hugged Solas. I'm suddenly drowning and don’t know why. The Well of Sorrows is so loud. I don't know what they are trying to say. They won't shut up!” Felt like she fighting with herself only it's the Well she's fighting. 

There is nothing here. Please feet start moving. Her body obeyed and she turned toward the garden taking a shaky step. The walk to Corypheus is long, every step needed to find clarity. Her feet cease. This time the Well's fear froze her. 

Her voice spoke, quiet, honest. “I want to live. I want... Oh, great, now I’m crying. There’s no crying before battles." An inappropriate laugh escaped. "And commence with jokes. I'm melting inside so sarcasm joins the fight."

Cullen stood and walked cautiously behind the woman gripping the door frame. Warm hands touched her shoulders. It’s all the contact he can allow. “You’ll live," he said, "You have to. You’ll come back.”

His touch opened a flood gate. She sobbed uncontrollably, releasing the paralyzing fear. Emotions drained, sobs subdued, she wiped away the tears. After a moment, she stood straight, “I’ll try. Thank you, Cullen.”

Feet were slow and reluctant but it’s about what must be done: a final confrontation. Once it’s over there is another great unknown, a void. Maybe that’s the true fear. The day she rode away from the Circle, she felt apprehensive, riding into an unseen future, like this moment…this moment plus one darkspawn, of course. Thanks sarcasm for joining the battle. 

Feet began moving forward. One step, the next step, the next step. The cloud lifts with every step. Was all that her fear or was that the Well of Sorrow? Not me. I have hope. The Well flooded her with fear. She summoned her own strength to push the Well further back. She must take control. Thank you, Cullen, she thought to herself, it was his touch that allowed her to release the emotions, kept her from sinking into the Well's fear. The Well of Sorrow fears Corypheus, _not_ her. 

Cullen watched her figure disappeared from the garden. The lyrium, guilt, anger, disappointment rose before him. His life could get better but he failed to face his anger and prejudices. His past destroyed everything. Anders was a wake-up call about Kirkwall, the failure of the Templar Order, the lyrium leash, the Chantry letting things fall apart, his own failure to act. Anders was a test to see if he had truly faced and overcome all that. He must face it. Until he did, he couldn't step forward.


	18. Final Battle

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Battle with Corypheus. The Well speaks. The orb is lost. Solas leaves. Reception. The Inquisitor confronts Vivienne. Time before the Circles return.

Cullen chose the War Room. The room reminded him why he joined the inquisition. Braced against the table he concentrated on the thought that service had meaning.

“Excuse me, Commander." Leliana spoke gently so not to startle the Commander unaware she entered the room. "I thought the room empty.” 

"I can go somewhere else," he said, “if you want to be alone…”

“No, I'd rather not be alone. Talking helps, if you don’t mind. Nothing else to do but hope and wait.” She sat at the war table, her hands folded in front of her as if in prayer. He moved by the window, staring at the new breach.

“You’ve come a long way, Commander. I've watched you since Kinlock, half crazed from torture when we freed you from the demon’s prison. Not a great turn of events in Kirkwall, serving a maniacal insane person....who’s _not_ a mage. Here you've made a difference, made the world better. Everything you desire in service. Yes?” 

“Are we reminiscing?” The tone was terse, bitter.

She smiled politely, “We wait the outcome of a battle with Corypheus. We’ve the luxury because someone else battles the would-be-god.”

“I’m aware.” He growled.

“I'm curious. The Inquisition gave you everything you wanted: service, atonement, a chance to free yourself. Somehow, you found a wonderful woman who loves you. One day you just walked away. I ask myself, why? It was at the conference over Ander’s judgement. She admitted to a brief close friendship with Anders. Who wouldn’t be upset to discover his sweetheart was friends with a monster, right? Then you turn her into the monster. How did that happen?”

“Enough! I prefer my private life stay private.” An ounce of energy and he'd storm the room but he’s has just the energy to stand and stare out the window.

“I can respect that until the sole person who can kill Corypheus, who can close the breach is emotionally wounded and doesn’t understand why. But it wasn't just her, you hurt yourself.” She hadn't intended to say this, they all hurt, they were all worried. She should be supportive.

“I'm sorry, Commander. You’re right. It’s your business. I’m frighten for her, up against Corypheus. I’ve come to respect her, care for her. Do you remember the frightened, bitter mage sure we'd throw her to the templars once we finished with her? She’s come a long way. 

“We were the adults looking after a combative, unsure kid. Look at her, the woman we send to battle. We helped her change, you helped her change.”

The world’s weight shifted on Leliana's shoulders. “I let her down. I underestimated her every step of the way. I expected the Winter Palace would be a disaster because of her. Kept Anders a secret, she didn’t need to know. She was naive, too immature for the Game. Boy, she showed me. She saw the manipulation, not me. My job to see these things and I failed. She risked everything admitting her time with Anders: her position, losing you, but she put the Inquisition first. Can’t help but respect that.

“Vivienne played us all: Cassandra, Josephine, you, me. The damage we almost did to the Inquisition. Our fault.” 

Cullen can’t accept her blame, “That is not fair, I was not at fault….”

“Fault or not, we’re supposed to try. When Haven fell, you took responsibility, got us out, made Skyhold safe. When the Herald faltered, you helped her, became her friend. A man doesn’t walk away, he tries, he fights. You don’t give up.”

She continued gently, “I understand, Cullen, I do. I failed Evelyn, I failed the Inquisitor. Imagine this mage, risking everything to save a world who hates mages. What is the one thing she asks us in return? Don’t send me back to the circle. She’s earned my respect, my love. So, I’ll try.”

 

 

Corypheus waited at the Temple of Ashes. Happily toying with Inquisition soldiers, demanding obedience, tearing up any who defy him. He played the scolding parent, the dangerous dictator, the spurned lover. Centuries waiting victory, he accepts nothing but absolute submission from every breathing person in Thedas. A tiny girl rejected by her family and locked up for magic dare stands defiant, diverting him from a single purpose, sending him into a blind rage.

Joy filled his wretched bones at the Inquisitor’s arrival. Shame to drag her away from her pitiful life. Look upon what purpose creates, built from a mere human and made into a god. He could raise her up, stand her beside him, be his second. Defiance isn’t rewarded. She deserves nothing, nothing but death. First he must strip away her pride, she must see his power.

“See my might, Inquisitor, see what makes a man worthy of godhood.” His voice boomed. 

Magic lifted the temple ruins from the ground where they stood, isolating them. Sara the silly girl, The Iron Bull born from a decaying race, the pretender Blackwall, and her, the Inquisitor nothing but a thief in the wrong place at the wrong time, an interloper, a gnat.

“You prove nothing, monster, with words and cheap magic tricks,” She stands defiant. 

The darkspawn magistrate roared in anger.

"Boss, why are you kicking the hornet’s nest?" The Iron Bull asked. 

From behind a broken wall, the hissing rumbling red lyrium dragon crawls up, jumps straight at the Inquisitor.

Ooo, lucky I brought my dragon, she smirked. Mythal’s champion flew at the red lyrium dragon, caught him by the neck, took him to the ground. The two beasts tumbled off a ledge and into the air. An air borne ballet of dragons opened the battle. 

Ire oozed from Corypheus, “A Dragon, how clever of you. It avails you nothing.” A hail of lightening and ice tossed everyone across the ground like toys

As they regain their feet a pack of demons attacked. Corypheus rained columns of burning light across the field. When they defeated all the demons Corypheus retreat to higher grounds. They pursued. 

Evelyn thought it disturbing the fight goes quickly their way. What hubris, Corypheus brings nothing new to the fight, nothing they hadn’t fought before. It proved only that he is a mage, powerful, yes, but all very human. Did he believe his dragon would wipe them out instantly? No contingency if the dragon failed? Why is the Well so anxious, why is the Well mad with fear?

Corypheus’ fury steered him in battle. His magic dangerous, but anger drove his attacks. Rage melted away battle strategy leaving him helpless to a mage, a rogue and two warriors who fought for the whole of Thedas. Corypheus fought in anger, for revenge. Perhaps that was why he fell so quickly. 

The battle in air between dragons drew to an end. The Champion entwined with the lyrium dragon crashing them to the ground. The lyrium dragon rolled away mortally wounded. Morrigan laid wounded on the ground. Help could not reach Morrigan until the lyrium dragon was destroyed. Not so hard, Sara with her thousand cuts took down a lesser dragon in under a minute – that was an awesome sight to see.

The inquisitor laid the final cut, darkspawn blood spurting across her armor. “This better not stain my new armor.” Joy, oh joy, sarcasm going full steam.

Sensing defeat, Corypheus drew the Inquisitor close. He flung the others down the embankment. They were alone, face to face. The Breach widened above, threatening to engulf them both. 

Mythal’s dragon stole his life’s reservoir. He was vulnerable to death. His fighting became deranged, panicked. Knowing his electric vulnerability Evelyn rained continuous sparks. Mana and energy spent he couldn't cast the simplest spell. Her anchor came to life stealing the orb from Corypheus. Without the orb’s magic he crumbled to the ground. 

Evelyn stood over him. “You are defeated, monster.” She willed the orb up to the breach. The anchor’s green light pushed the orb up until it touched the breach. Opposing energies exploded into light. The breach closed and the orb returned to the anchor.

Weakness kept him on his knees, only his anger was strong, “I am never defeated. I will come back.” In desperation he appealed to his god Dumat, the very god he claimed was without power. 

“Your dragon is gone. There is nowhere for you to go. You die today.”

Corypheus laughed, “I pity you. So much hidden from you, so much you don’t know. The Well of Sorrows cannot shield you, Vessel, even they know it. Consequences, Inquisitor, consequences. I will not go into oblivion alone. Follow me into obscurity, lose everything as I have lost everything.”

This was her moment and nothing he said took that away, “Your threats don’t frighten me. You wanted into the Fade? I’ll send you there.” 

Evelyn thrust the anchor at Corypheus, its power glowed and crackled, crushing and melting his body. His essence melted into the Fade and vanished. 

The magic holding the temple ruins waned. Buildings and rock began to fall to the earth.

Evelyn looked for her companions. Blackwall, Sara and the Iron Bull were too far away to aid her. Bricks and mortar fell around her. 

Evelyn fell on her back, the orb rolled from her hand. Rocks crashed around. Eyes trained on the orb she heard a voice, clear, distinct and loud, “Save it!” The Well of Sorrow gave her body strength. She crawled, reached for the orb.

A rock crashed between them, she lost sight of the orb. She recoiled, drawing into a ball, protecting herself.

The magic exhausted, everything touched ground. The dust settled, the world grew silent. 

Blackwall was first to his feet. "We're alive!"

“That was close,” Iron Bull laughed. 

“Coryphifish gone for good.” Sara commented as she brushed off the dust.

“Speaking of which….” Blackwell looked where he last saw the Inquisitor. She knelt motionless staring into the ground. He rushed to her, set his hand on her shoulder. "Inquisitor, are you alright?”

She remained un-moving, staring at an elven mosaic embedded in the ground. “He’s coming,” 

“Who?” Blackwall tightened his hand on her shoulder trying to draw her attention. Her brows furrowed like she was trying to remember. 

“I don’t know. A voice said. The Well, I think. Spoke clearly.” When her vision cleared she was confused by a mosaic of Mythal where she knelt. Why would an elven mosaic be in the Temple of Ashes? Blackwall squeezed her shoulder and extended his hand to her. She accepted his assistance to stand. 

Sara was annoyed as always with magic stuff, “What she going on about? Elfy stuff again? Come on!” Sara spotted Inquisition people gathering at the bottom of the hill. She took Blackwall by the arm and dragged him away. Iron Bull trailed behind. 

Evelyn stood, still confused by the voices, confused by mosaic. She remembered the orb and turned to find it. 

She was surprised to see Solas standing there. Dear Maker, where did he come from?

He stood above the broken orb, devastated. He knelt examining the pieces.

“Solas,” she spoke softly. “I’m sorry about the orb.” 

“It’s not your fault.” He looked at the pieces, maybe willing them to mend. Giving up he stood, leaving the useless broken pieces on the ground. He focused on her, sadness filled his eyes. 

“It was not supposed to happen this way. No matter what comes, I want you to know you shall always have my respect.” His expression abruptly changed to something dangerous.

“Solas? There’s more, isn’t there?”

“Inquisitor?” Evelyn turned to see Cassandra coming up the hill. “You're alive?” 

Evelyn walked down to meet the Seeker. Her companions and friends joined them. Morrigan, no longer a dragon, was there, injured but alive. 

Cassandra embraced Evelyn. “Thank the maker. You did it.” 

Cassandra’s hug surprised her, unexpected, but not unpleasant. Seems hugs are a good thing. Before she left she turned back to Solas. He was gone. He left. He said nothing. The Orb’s pieces lay forgotten. For the first time that day, the Well of Sorrows was silent.

 

 

This time Josephine made her wear a dress. Evelyn's attire stated to all of Thedas that the Inquisition was now a peace keeping organization. The Inquisition fulfilled its first two goals, close the breach and find who’s responsible. The third was returning order to Thedas. Without Corypheus, its politics and the Game from here on out.

Fortunately, it wasn't a ball room dress. The dress was a deep blue with gold embroidery. Sleeves fell just below the elbow, a scoop neck corset and drop waist accenting a long slender torso. Tasteful but not over the top Orlesian 

Evelyn insisted she would not wear two petticoats, or the gloves, or the cape, and definitely not the high heel shoes. "Josey, I haven't worn a dress since I was ten years old. Dresses take getting used to. High heels are treacherous. I'm sure nobility wear heals to prove how tough they are."

"You'll be wearing more courtly attire in the coming days. Dresses are very becoming on you." Josephine said still fussing with the dress. "Come, let us present you to our guests."

A mix of diplomats, nobles, and wealthy patrons attended the Inquisition's victory party. Much to Josephine's ire, Evelyn insisted invitations were extended to all of her companions including Sara, The Iron Bull, and Cole. 

Except for the formalities, Evelyn enjoyed herself. It was a rare occasion that the whole team was together and a War Council Meeting was not scheduled the next morning.

She most enjoyed time with friends. Conversations turned to the future. Most intended to hang around a bit but all have eventual plans. The Iron Bull, Cassandra, Cole, intend to remain with the Inquisition. Others look away from Skyhold: Dorian to Tevinter, Varric to Kirkwall, Blackwall to the Wardens, and Sara to bother nobles. All of this, the Inquisition, Skyhold, faced change. 

Grateful of his support in the garden, she approached Cullen, speaking as the Inquisitor. "The Inquisition is forever in your debt, Commander, you never let us down, you never disappointed."

“I appreciate that, Inquisitor. It means a lot to hear that. Of course, without you none of this would be possible." He too wore a professional persona.

“One more thing, Commander. The soldiers you sent ahead of me. Corypheus swatted them down like paper dolls but they never surrendered. I want to write their families, acknowledge their bravery. Would you allow me to do this?" 

"The families would be grateful to hear the Inquisitor cared. You've always been good to our soldiers." 

"Thank you for saying that, Commander. I've not done enough for them. I should have thanked them more often. I'd like to make up for that...now that I have time."

"Of course. Come by my office anytime. We can discuss this or anything you want to talk about." he said gently. "I'm afraid I've taken up too much of your time. I'm sure there are others hoping for your attention."

"Thank you." Evelyn replied. 

"Um...you look very nice. I'm sure Josephine is pleased to see you in a dress."

"Thank you, Commander. Josephine is very pleased." This is the Cullen she knew, the one she met in Haven, proud of his soldiers, proud of himself. He was getting better. 

They looked at each other for a moment. With nothing else coming, she shook his hand. At the very least, maybe they could rebuild their friendship. 

Two steps away Vivienne waited for her. She wore an elaborate ornamental divided hennin headpiece, beast’s horns, towering above everyone in the room. The message was clear: mess with me and get stabbed by my deadly horns. What Vivienne doesn’t say aloud was clearly expressed visually.

“Congratulations my dear, what a great victory for you.

"A great victory for all of us. You included.” No reason to despise Vivienne. She would be generous. 

“That is kind of you, my dear. I hear Anders left for Weisshaupt.” 

That was fast. She went right for the jugular. "Hmm, yes, Vivienne, I sent him. Envoy for the Inquisition. He is a Grey Warden.” 

The Iron Lady steeled herself to drive in the killing strike. ”Ever wonder how Anders was discovered?”

Wow. Absolutely astonishing. This is meant to hurt me. After all this, we play the game. Time to quit playing.

“Me. I am the reason Anders was caught.”

Vivienne’s stunned look face was priceless. Someone stole her favorite toy. Her calm demeanor changed to wide eyes and open mouth. If for a brief second.

“Well, aren’t you clever? The story of the Herald of Andraste’s exodus from the Circle, every treacherous step dramatized to those who would listen. Captured by rogue templars in the Vinmark Mountains. Rescued by apostate’s living in caves. Nicknames. How many skilled Spirit Healers do you think exist in Thedas? Your prideful tale led soldiers right to the poor man. You gave him up.”

Interesting that Vivienne lost her composure for a moment. Not forgetting that. Evelyn figured out the real truth behind the game. She was good at looking at variables and fitting them into the big picture. It's why Ostwick Circle chose her to go to the Conclave. It's why she could make the big decisions. Vivienne's words were harmless. 

“Thedas can no more exist without the Circles than survive without water. But this isn’t about mages or the Circle.” No use exchanging barbs. No more fighting, clarify the situation, diffuse the bomb.

“All of this, from joining the Inquisition to Anders secures you a place at the table. Here is my thinking. Bastien didn’t profess love as he died. He said, ‘It’s going to be alright.’ Did your ambition worry him? A snowy wyvern heart is an ingredient for a potent youth potion. How does a youth potion save a dying 80 year old man? He died but his sister and his son believe you tried everything to save him. You secured their support. Before the Circle you were a poor merchant's daughter. The Circle saved you, open doors for you. The circle did nothing for me. I can’t relate to your ambition or drive.”

“So says a woman disowned by a great Noble family, and can’t hold on to an ex-Templar suffering from lyrium withdraws.” Vivienne bit.

“Ouch, I deserved that. It does sounds like I'm being mean." Evelyn said knowing Vivienne's ammunition was spent. "You’re the luckiest mage in Thedas. The Circle isn’t your home. You see the tower, not what’s inside. You can’t relate to Ander’s torture or sexual abuse by Templars. You’ll never be Wynne whose new born baby is taken by the Chantry. Or me, lost in limbo for fourteen years. History remembers people who sit at the table. You must sit at that table. Take the seat, Vivienne, I'm not stopping you. Try to do some good.” 

Got balls to say this to Vivienne, it must be followed by a hug. Vivienne stiffened like an ancient tree, proof that Vivienne once lived in the Circle.

Evelyn left Vivienne in the care of her patrons. She walked down the hall speaking to a few more people before heading toward Leliana. “Spymaster, may I speak to you in private? 

"Of course. Hall of Murals?” Leliana suggested. The two moved into the room Solas once occupied.

"Any word on Solas?"

"None, but I'll keep looking. Odd that he would just leave without a word." Leliana said.

"Yes. Odd. Left nothing but his murals. I do love these murals." She was momentarily distracted by the pictures.

"Josey managed to get you into a dress. I'm sure she's thrilled."

"Josephine is very pleased...mostly that I can't remove the dress without help. An evil plot to keep me from sneaking away. Unbeknownst to her, I own scissors." 

“So, enjoying your party?” Leliana asked. Masters of the Game watch for hidden subtext. 

“Of course, this is all lovely," She said and then added with thick sarcasm, "Who doesn’t love little cakes?” 

A deflected response simply means it’s the wrong question.

“I'm not so easily fooled, Inquisitor. Out with it.” Leliana said.

“You discovered I have plans. Hopeful plans since I wasn't sure if I would be dead, wounded, or alive. What tipped you off?"

“There were clues: Cecilia left for Haven when you returned. A kitchen busy preparing a celebration sent a variety of dried fruits and a water skin to your room. I'm guessing a travel bag hides nearby. And, there is truth in your sarcasm.”

Evelyn smiled. “If the templars don't whisk me to the Circle, Josephine will turn me into her co-ambassador.”

“Uh huh...." Leliana said, hearing the half-truth.

Evelyn's tone turned serious, "Running seems prudent considering Vivienne is a candidate for the Divine. A mage as Divine sounds like a long shot but proves her political clout. ”

"So you heard about Vivienne. It's not public information yet."

“Elected or not, she’ll see me in a Circle. This whole time we battled to save Thedas she manipulated a place for herself. It’s why she joined. Everything staged from the first time I met her at Ghislan Estate to Anders to tonight. I’m not a threat...I am her pawn.” Calm down, Evelyn, no reason to set the little cakes on fire.

"I should never have doubted your skill of the Game."

"One day a templar will show up in Skyhold telling me it's time to go back to the Circle."

"I don't agree, but I can see you believe. So when do you plan to leave for Haven?" Leliana asked.

"Planned on late tonight after the party. But, I've decided to postpone until I meet with Josephine tomorrow. I'll see what she has in store for me. I'll arrange for some time in Haven, like a normal person." 

“Very mature of you. What about the Commander?

She shook her head, “Don't know. I'm happy he's getting better.”

“You don’t want it to be over.”

“Heard the expression, you don’t die from a broken heart, you just wish you did? Two mages in love see each other every day but it's a love that cannot grow. They pray to end these beautiful feelings. It drives some to suicide. Circle mages don’t die from a broken heart, they die from a love that is inches away.

“I was lucky. I had what no Circle mage dares to dream. I loved Cullen in the fullest possible way. However brief. Mages are good at brief. Now it's time for me to live while I can.”

After Leliana left, Evelyn remained to ponder her fate. She gazed at the murals. They depicted the Herald of Andraste progression from Haven to.... Her eyes stopped on the final mural. It showed a sword piercing a dead dragon. Makes sense, it's Corypheus's dragon. A huge wolf looms over the dragon. If the final mural was unfinished does this mean Solas will be back? Odd. Something bothered her.

The hair on the back of her neck stood up and a cold passed over her. Solas was in the ruins with her minutes after Corypheus died. He either knew she would defeat him or.... Wait. She looked again. Was there another message in the mural? She looked at all the other pictures in the hall. Did _all the murals_ say something she missed? 


	19. Finding A Way

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The month after Corypheus' defeat. Inquisition overrun with requests. Consequence of lyrium withdraw. Cullen finds a new service. Marriage proposals refused. New Divine faces resistance.
> 
> "Haven" is the final section of the first story. Good stopping point. 
> 
> "Six Weeks after the Defeat of Corypheus" begins story transition to Trespasser.

Two weeks after the Inquisition Defeats Corypheus.  
Cassandra and Cullen sat patiently as Josephine placed three stacks of papers on the desk. She pointed at the closest stack. “Do you know what these are? Invitations to receptions, balls, ceremonies.”

She moved those aside and pointed at the second, “Requests for audience from city officials, heads of state, and wealthy patrons.” 

The final pile was pushed ahead of the others. “These are petitions, engagements, and appointments that require the Inquisitor's personal response including five marriage proposals. That’s right, five marriage proposals. How do I respond? Diplomats, representatives and I are no substitute for the Inquisitor.”

Her complaints pass Cassandra without sympathy. She's unconcern about politics. Her attention was focused on the future of the Seekers of Truth. Revelations from the order’s Book of Secrets forced her to reconsider the order’s future.

Cullen understood the ambassador’s plight, but hearing about marriage proposals bound knots in his chest. It’s slow coming back from his setback. His personal relationship with Evelyn seemed something of the past. At least he'd keep busy overseeing plans to help people affected by the war and coordinating efforts to destroy red lyrium across Thedas. 

Josephine’s frustrations saw no end, “Letters and messages to the Inquisitor arrive daily! This cannot go on. Something must be done!"

Leliana entered the room having overheard Josephine's complaints. "I don't know why you complain. You approved the Inquisitor's time in Haven. While she's on her well-deserved break she agreed to meet and greet area officials. For someone who doesn't like politics, she's doing a good job."

Josephine remained irritated. “The Inquisitor ignores us.”

Leliana didn’t let that slide, “Josie, it's only been two weeks. She's a few hours late. I'm sure she'll be here soon.”

A few minutes later a guard announced the Inquisitor. 

Cullen was first to his feet, everyone followed suit. Evelyn rolled her eyes at the fuss, waved them to sit. “Good to see you all. I'm sorry I'm late, I'm afraid I had a chicken problem in Haven."

Cullen was dumbfounded, “You have chickens?”

Evelyn answered, “Yes, Josey, Cassy, Cully, and Lilly. Cecilia takes care of them since I'm in Haven only occasionally.”

He was further entertained, “You named your chickens after us?”

Delighted with a bit of fun bantering, Evelyn said, “Of course I did!”

Leliana interrupted. “Much as we delight in our warm family reunion, we have two items to discuss. First, Ferelden is complaining about the Inquisition. They don't like us in their territory. They think someone should have jurisdiction over us." 

"That was fast. Didn't we just defeat Corypheus?" Cullen noted.

Leliana continued, "Some still distrust a mage Inquisitor. Bottom line, the Inquisition must think about the future, consider long term goals."

"Second," Cassandra said, "Leliana and I leave for Val Royeaux this week. Divine elections are upon us. But, before we settle in, let's allow our traveler to freshen up a bit. I'll have the kitchen bring up some refreshments. Let's reconvene in the war room in thirty minutes.”

  


After the Council finished its business, Evelyn sat with Josephine to go over the letters. The pile was divided between them.

"I'll take care of these letters." Evelyn agreed. "I'll get back to you about those marriage offers." Once Josephine was satisfied, she excused herself and headed to Cullen's office. 

Evelyn knocked and walked inside. He was standing by his bookcase. "Commander, do you have a moment? May I speak with you?"

Cullen thought often of speaking with her. He hadn't yet built up the nerve. She deserved an explanation why he treated her so terribly. He didn't deserve forgiveness, but if he could he wished to earn it. "Of course, what can I do for you"? 

Evelyn was pleased that he looked well, his manner pleasing. "Commander... Cullen, there is a templar who wants to meet you. I'm hoping we can arrange something."

His need to speak with her was quickly forgotten by this odd request. He was instantly concerned. Evelyn felt comfortable around Inquisition templars but avoided contact with any others. "Where is this templar?" 

“He's in Haven. He could not travel here because... Well, it's his story to tell, not mine. I knew him from Ostwick Circle. His name is Brooks. Will you agree to see him?" 

"You're asking me to go to Haven?"

"As I said, he can't travel here. It's a lot to ask, but as soon as you can, yes. As a personal favor for me."

He could not deny her the request. "I have things to take care of but I could go tomorrow." He said. 

"Thank you. I must return immediately, but I'll meet you there. The cabin is just outside Haven right before the memorial. It's hard to miss. Cecilia painted the fence green. I'll see you as soon as you arrive. And, Cullen, thank you."

.

Haven  
The next morning Cullen rode the trip from Skyhold to Haven. What used to be a day's ride by horse over rough terrain was nearly half the time. The merchant, Belle, petitioned the Inquisition to build a safe and easy to travel road for visitors and traders. 

Cullen agreed to meet the templar but he was hoping to speak with Evelyn personally. If he had the nerve. Would she listen to him? Could she forgive him? Would she run into his arms? Yell and scream? Throw chickens at him? Can one throw chickens?

His remission almost brought him to using lyrium again, but hurting her and destroying their relationship was agony. Cassandra was right, he found a new strength standing on his own and steering his own recovery. 

As he neared Haven he found the green fence bordering the road. Farther down the road he spotted the Haven Monument. He entered the green gate and rode toward a cottage a short distance away. 

Cullen dismounted just as the cabin door opened. Evelyn greeted him with a smile.

"Cullen! How are you? Are you hungry? I got food."

"No, thank you. I'm fine. How are you?" Her warm welcome dispelled some of his fear of speaking with her. Even if there is nothing else, she expressed a friendship he has always cherished. In his heart he could accept that if everything else was lost. 

"I'm great. Come and sit for a moment."

"I appreciate that but I'd like to see this templar. Brooks?" 

"Brooks. Follow me." She walked him toward the stable. The simple stable had a generous overhang to shelter livestock and four stalls. The last stall door was slightly ajar. Evelyn pulled the door open. "Brooks? Are you awake?"

Curious, Cullen stepped closer. A smell hit him that reminded him of old cells under the Kirkwall Gallows filled with debris and human filth. A thin man with long unkempt hair, unshaven face, and dirty clothes attempted to get to his feet but instead slumped by the door. Cullen was shocked by the sight.

The pitiful sight tore at her heart as she explained, "He stumbled into Haven over a week ago looking for the templar who lead the Inquisition Forces. Town folks pointed him here. He was in a desperate state. I offered food and clothing but he just wanted to find you. I promised to bring you here if he accepted my help. He agreed to stay in the stall, but he has eaten hardly anything." Evelyn turned to Cullen, "He wants to speak with you because you quit lyrium."

"Not so successfully," He said. 

"I don't know if you can help him, but at the very least share what you've been through and how you've survived. Please, speak with him." Evelyn left him with Brooks. 

An hour later, Cullen knocked on the cabin door asking for food and water, and later asking for clean clothing. As the evening became night he returned again, asking for one more thing. "Do you have a spare blanket?"

"I do. May I take it to him? She asked.

"I'll walk you out." He said. 

Evelyn found the stall was clean. Brooks was washed and wore clean clothes. He lay sleeping but his body trembled and twitched. Evelyn gently stretched the blanket across his frail frame. 

As the blanket fell over his shoulders Brooks spoke in a weak voice, "Thank you." Evelyn's chin quivered. She wiped her eyes before turning to Cullen. "You should come in and have something to eat."

Cullen followed her inside and sat at the table. She placed a bowl of stew and a cup of water in front of him. She sat down with him.

"No one should suffer like that." She said, trying not to get upset. "Did you ever....hurt that much?"

"I had support and I wasn't living on the street, but I knew that pain." Cullen answered quietly. "Brooks told me what he did to you in the Circle."

A shiver spread goosebumps across her arms as the memory passed before her. "It wasn't the worse, but it was the first."

"Tell me what happen." 

"My first year. The Year from Hell. Angry, defiant, I challenged everyone. Brooks caught me taking a library book into the hall. I wasn't leaving or stealing the book. Didn't matter. He was the authority and I smarted off. He backhanded me. I went about three feet before I crashed into the wall. I wasn't that badly hurt but it was my first lesson as to my place in the world. Took a few more 'lessons' before I got it. By the time I was twelve I learned to keep my mouth shut and my head down."

"Twelve years old? You went in when you were ten?" He couldn't imagine a full grown templar backhanding a ten year old child.

"Yes." She recovered herself. 

"But you're helping Brooks. Aren't you angry at him?"

"No. Nor do I want him to suffer like that even for what he did." She said.

"I constantly fight anger toward the Chantry. They used lyrium to control us. The Chantry offers no help for templars who want to or must stop using lyrium. Look at Brooks! I don't know how not to be angry."

"When I was first with the Inquisition I went to Val Royeaux. I watched a templar strike a Revered Mother while the Lord Seeker looked on. My guts tied up in anger. Wanted to burn them all to a crisp. After they left I offered help to Mother Hevara. Helping her stopped the anger, healed my soul. Seemed a better choice."

"And me? When I assaulted you over Anders? I said terrible things. Refused you my friendship. Everything we had. Did you hate me, weren't you angry?" 

"I was frightened. You reminded me of Brooks towering over me. But I knew you were lost. When I really needed you, you came out long enough to help. What ever happened, Cullen, I've long forgiven you."

"You cannot forgive me. Lyrium etched things deep into my bones. Things I believe and struggle daily not to believe. Without lyrium I am two men: a man who hates and mistrusts, and a man trying to be better and knows who he is." He confessed. 

"Anders triggered the hate. Difficult to control, hard to escape. Felt like I'd never come back. Right now I am who I want to be, who I truly am. But it will happen again. Something will trigger the dark side, I'm sure of that. It's part of getting off the lyrium. It's the price. I'm willing to pay that price. You don't have too."

Evelyn placed her hand on top of his. He shuttered at her touch. "Cullen, did you share this with Brooks?"

"Yes. About quitting lyrium, what I went through. What I've shared with you."

"How did he react?"

"The truth scared him, but he seemed relieved to hear it. He agreed to get cleaned up, eat something."

Maker, she thought, how very remarkable for Cullen to share something so intimate and personal with a stranger! "How did you feel about sharing all this?" 

"It helped sharing it with Brooks. Made me believe things could be better."

"Cullen...." She started but couldn't get the words formed.

"What?' 

She gently squeezed his hand. "What you did for Brooks... You are such a good man. I wish I could somehow explain how wonderful you are, that I care so very much for you..." 

"Evelyn..." He gently placed his hand on top of hers. "I came here for selfish reasons. I came here for you. I treated you badly, I hurt you. I needed to explain why because I need your forgiveness. I want you in my life, even if it's just as a friend."

"I never left." She said. "I've always believed in you."

He stared at the precious gift sitting beside him. He wished he was a poet or possessed eloquent words so he could tell her what he was feeling.

"I'm a man of few words. Maybe a thousand more could say it better." He placed her hand to his chest. "You are my heart." 

.

Six Weeks After the Inquisition Defeats Corypheus.  
Evelyn sat at Josephine’s desk reading the five marriage proposals she promised to look over…and chose to ignore. She spent an hour looking at all the other letters assigned to her. She should make a decision about these, too.

The proposals were from various noble families around Thedas. According to Leliana's attached note, four were written on behalf of younger non-inheriting sons. Obviously they sought an important marriage as they had no interest in scholarship or Chantry service, both common careers for younger sons. She'd send them all a note that said, 'no'. 

The fifth letter from a representative of the Ostwick Trevelyan family, _her family_ , got her full attention. The solicitor's name she recognized, Alex Durkee, son of Dwane Durkee, successful merchant who rose above his common status and owned an adjoining estate coveted by her father. Alex was often in the company of her two older brothers. There was no mention of a possible groom.

Evelyn suspected there was more to this. She penned a response...not an acceptance but an invitation for more information. She sat back in her chair amused at the five proposals. Don't they realize Circle mages cannot marry? Perhaps they all believed that as Inquisitor she rose above those rules. 

"There you are,” Cullen said as he entered the ambassador’s office. "You weren't there when I woke up."

“It was very early. I didn't want to disturb you.” A warm smile crossed her face. “How did you sleep?”

“Slept well, no nightmares.” He kissed her forehead. "You look busy."

"I promised Josephine I'd take care of these correspondences. Big pile. Oh, you might like this one." She shuffled through for a specific message which she handed to him. "Blackwall sent this. There’s a rumor that some Wardens found viable griffin eggs. Can you believe that? I didn't have time to finish the letter, see if he says anything more." 

Cullen pulled a chair next to her and began reading the letter. If the Grey Wardens found griffin eggs it would be a miracle if they could hatch after all these years. But again, he's seen some pretty incredible things over the last two years. He carefully read the whole correspondence. When he looked up Evelyn's mood had darkened and she shook her head like something was difficult to believe. "What's going on?"

She didn't respond. He put a hand on her shoulder. "Evelyn. What is it?"

"This message arrived this morning. You want the good, the bad or the tragic?" She asked.

"All of it." He said calmly. 

"Well, the good news is we get our spymaster back and Cassandra gets to re-organize the Seekers. The bad news is neither is the new Divine. The new Divine is Vivienne, forthwith known as Divine Victoria, and absolutely tragic for me."

She never failed to put things in proper perspective, he thought, colored with sarcasm if the situation bothered her. Nobody expected Vivienne to be the next Divine. She was a long shot.

"You're worried she'll send you to a Circle."

"Not right away. She has to rebuild the Circles first. That gives me some time. I'm sure I can finish these correspondences before two templars show up to take me away." Her mind started turning so quickly that even he saw the thoughts tumbling around.

"What are you thinking? Not moving to Tevinter, I hope. You’re the Inquisitor, head of one of the most powerful institutes in Thedas."

Her mind was in a faraway place. "She can't send templars because the Inquisition has all the templars. No templars, no Circles."

"You lost me." 

"It means she has a lot of work ahead and I have even more time." She smiled and transferred herself to Cullen's lap. "Hungry?"

"Could be." He said. He suspected she wasn't thinking about food.

"Leliana and Cassandra won't be back for a few days. The War Room has a new security lock. We haven't made love there yet."

"Making up for escaping our bed this morning? How is it that two minutes ago you were worried about returning to the Circle and now I'm about to carry you into the War Room and make love to you all over Orlais? How do you do that?"

"Um...I was lost at _swept up by a handsome man and then..._ Did you ask something else?"

 _I have no resistance at all. I'd spend a month in bed with her if she wanted. She'd only have to ask._ He slipped his hands under her legs and with little effort picked her up and began walking to the War Room. She was already kissing his neck and tugging his ear lobe with her teeth. He'd make it 30 feet at most...that would be somewhere in the hall and not quite in the war room.

. 

Eight Weeks After the Inquisition Defeats Corypheus.  
"The fallout from Vivienne's...Divine Victoria's election was swift." Cassandra explain to the War Council. "We hadn't departed Val Royeaux before a number of Grand Clerics organized a protest outside the Grand Cathedral calling for her immediate resignation claiming...."

"I can guess this. She is a mage therefore cannot hold the office of Divine." Evelyn stated.

"The Divine's response was swift and brutal. Nobody died, but it smacked of Lord Seeker Lambert's handling of the College of Enchanters. Had the she any templars under her command there may well been blood on the streets. I don't think Vivienne...Divine Victoria's reign will go smoothly."

"What do you mean?" Josephine said.

"The Inquisition did not have an easy start: no one trusted us. The nobility sneered at us at the Winter Palace. The Inquisition had to prove its worth which we did. As promised, we stopped Corypheus. Something tells me Vivienne doesn't operate that way. "

"On the bright side," Josephine added. "While Divine Victoria fights her own people she won't send you to a Circle." 

"Don't be shortsighted. She has no choice. This is far from over." Evelyn grumbled.

"I don't understand why you think she must." Cassandra said.

"We have King Alistair, Empress Celene, Inquisitor Trevelyan, and now Divine Victoria: the four most powerful people in Thedas, right? Two humans and two mages. Thedas had a problem with one mage in a powerful position. Now there are two? Locking me up in the Circle tells everyone that a mage in a powerful position is an exception, not a rule. Vivienne needs to be the exception, not me."

Around the table everyone looked at Evelyn. She rolled her eyes and put her head in her hands and moaned.

"Now what?" Cassandra asked.

"I am flabbergasted! I just admitted I'm one of the most powerful people in Thedas. I think I may be sick." She chuckled loudly. The only thing she liked as much as sarcasm was absurdity.

"And now you are ridiculous." Cassandra said.

"The four of you are responsible. You opened the gate when you gave a mage the title of Inquisitor. Vivienne saw the opening and pursued her position like a dragon clearing a city." She knew they couldn't see this from her view point.

"I should mention that Divine Victoria has asked me, as a Seeker and the former Right Hand to the Divine, to serve as an adviser. I accepted the position. I hope this isn't a conflict of interest." Cassandra said.

"I don't think so. I trust you to serve the Divine as you served us. To your best ability." Evelyn replied quickly.

"I will be traveling back and forth to Val Royeaux ever few months." Cassandra said. 

"I understand. If there is nothing else, meeting adjourned."

Cullen held Evelyn back while the rest left the room. When they were alone he asked, "What's going on?" 

"I don't understand what you mean?" Evelyn responded.

"The Inquisition needs to support the Chantry. Regardless of your personal feelings about Vivienne, she is the Divine. She represents the will of Andraste."

"So I must turn myself into a Circle if the voice of Andraste says I must?"

They stood looking at the other. The loyal Andrastian who cannot abandon his faith, and the so named Herald of Andraste who faces a life in limbo in the Circle. 

She saw the conflict tearing at him. "You know me, Cullen. I will do what is right. I'll do what is asked of me. I promise."

He gave her a nod then left her with her thoughts. What did Corypheus say to her at the end? 

> _"So much hidden from you, so much you don’t know. The Well of Sorrows cannot shield you, Vessel, even they know it. Consequences, Inquisitor, consequences. I will not go into oblivion alone. Follow me into obscurity, lose everything as I have lost everything.”_

How prophetic.


	20. The Visit

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chantry protest. The Divine's templars. The Trevelyan family. Mage rights. Solas' murals. Haven Memorial's Anniversary. Chant for the Departed.
> 
> (95% done - adjustments possible. Grammar always under revision)

Four Months After the Defeat of Corypheus.  
Cullen stood at his shaving stand in the Inquisition Suite. The razor carefully moved across a cheek as the sun slipped up over the mountain peak. He rinsed the stubble off in the water basin. He paused to look at the bed. She was sleeping again. A warm smile filled his face. She deserved the extra sleep. 

He woke her early this morning. She enthusiastically obliged. Her passion matched his own, and to his surprise, her eagerness exceeding his.

In public they behaved appropriate and professional. Alone that was left outside the door. It was an all-out assault on each other. He blushed. This morning he made love like he was running a marathon. 

A banging on the door interrupted his thoughts. “Inquisitor! I have a message. It’s urgent.”

Evelyn sat up. Cullen tossed her the robe sitting on the dresser. 

“Just a moment. I’ll be right there.” She dressed as she walked to the door.

“Your worship. Cassandra returned early from Val Royeaux. The Council meeting is moved up to whenever you can get there. Um, something about a riot.”

“Okay, thanks.” As the steward departed she wondered what the situation could be. 

Cullen pulled her into his arms. “Good morning. Again.”

“I like starting my day that way. Minus the steward announcing riot.” 

"You know I love you?” Not waiting a response he kissed her knowing beyond a doubt she was the only woman he would ever love. She was worth the wait. Anything he may have missed didn’t matter because it was all here now. 

“Do that again and we’ll be late for the meeting.” She said.

He took that risk and kissed her again.

“You're much too dressed for anything quick.” She said tapping his armor.

“Making you wait.” He smirked. “Riot before more…well, more.”

“I love you, too” She returned the kiss so he wouldn’t forget.

. 

  
Council Meeting  
"Inquisition Council sounds like 'ick'." Leliana discussed with Evelyn and Cullen while they waited for the meeting to begin.

"Ick?" Cullen grimaced.

"Inquisition Council: I.C. Sounds like ick. Will never do." Leliana explained.

Cullen grumbled. "Are we seriously discussing this?"

"Levity is necessary, considering today's business." Leliana said hinting at the coming agenda. The discussion ended as Cassandra and Josephine entered. 

"Good morning. Leliana has three items to discuss, but first Cassandra has the floor." Evelyn said.

"As you noticed," Cassandra began, "I've returned early from my time with Divine Victoria. There was an incident. A very large and well organized assembly marched to the Grand Cathedral and pushed through the front gate. The protesters sent a decree insisting the Divine step down. They refused to leave until she answered their demands. 

"Word of the security breach reached Empress Celene who sent peace keeping soldiers to maintain order: shields only and no swords. The Divine's templars arrived to secure the entrances to the Sunburst Throne. 

"With soldiers behind and templars in front, the crowd got nervous. The protest turned deadly. The death toll was twenty-four and many, many more injured. The dead count could have been higher but Celene's soldiers only carried shields. The Divine's templars were fully armed.

"Survivor's lay blame on the Divine and her templars. Celene is being hailed for her soldiers' restraint and aid to the injured. All the bad publicity fell at the Divine's feet." Cassandra said finishing her report.

“The Divine has templars?” Evelyn asked a bit alarmed. "Cassandra, where did she get the templars?"

“The Divine's underground mage network followed the illegal lyrium trade looking for templars in hiding since the Mage-Templar War. They were recruited with the promise of lyrium. No more hiding, no more scrounging for lyrium. Serve the Divine and your lyrium supply is ensured. 

“Since I am a Seeker the templars spoke openly about the lyrium distribution. Her templars take a higher amount of lyrium daily than is tradition, a level that equates to instant addiction. Without the Seekers of Truth there is no oversight. The Divine firmly controls the new Templar Order. 

“I complained. The Divine claimed it was necessary to get the Circles operational. On the subject of Circles, the White Spire was the first Circle re-opened. Her Loyalist mages occupy the Spire. The Divine reinstated the elusive Lucrosian Fraternity: Mages from the wealthiest families in Orlais. They play politics and the Grand Game as masters."

Cullen said, “None of this sounds good.”

Leliana interjected, “Our next business, since it's related to this, is a message from Divine Victoria, official Chantry business, requesting information about the state of the Inquisition.

Evelyn was confused. “What?”

“The Chantry requests information on very specific items: Finances, real estate, equipment, operations, tradesmen, soldiers, templars and mages.” Leliana explained.

“I don’t understand. Neither the Chantry nor the Divine has authority over the Inquisition.” Cullen said.

“You have a take on this, Leliana. I can tell.” Evelyn said.

Leliana continued. “She needs the Inquisition's support. This letter means to test our resolve and push us into a position. You are correct, Commander, she has no authority here.”

“Are you suggesting we ignore the letter?” Asked Cassandra.

“Isn’t that a bit risky, drawing her anger?” Asked Cullen.

“If it were any other Divine except Vivienne I would say your're right. She can't send an Exalted March if we don't comply.” Leliana said.

“Can we compromise? Send a letter saying missive received and we'll get back to her later?" Cullen suggested.

“Not a bad idea. Sensible.” Leliana returned.

A nervous Josephine approved. “Let’s do that. I don’t think I have the nerves to ignore her completely.”

“So it shall be.” Leliana agreed.

“As my nerves are already shattered I dread asking what our next business is about.” Josephine commented.

“Two more items. Next letter: An official request from the Divine to visit the Inquisition.”

“No, I do believe I have a few more nerves to shatter.” Josephine responded.

“An official visit to the Inquisition will booster her reputation.” Leliana said.

“Inquisitor, you’re very quiet. What’s on your mind?” Cassandra asked.

“I’m conflicted here. The Inquisition’s current goal is to restore order, yes?" Everyone agreed as she looked around the table.

“While Corypheus rained fire across Thedas, the Chantry, without a Divine, continued its operations. Nearly every city, village and town had a functioning Chantry.

“The Chantry’s greatest instability is the Divine. Much as we are unsure of Vivienne, somehow we need the office of Divine settled. I don’t mean showing up in force and removing her from the throne.”

“Support her publicly?” Leliana asked.

“Support conditionally. Push her to operate within her own boundaries.” Evelyn suggested.

“What exactly do you mean?” Cullen asked.

"She needs guidance but she isn't the kind to take anyone's advice. We need to nudge her into doing the right thing. She needs to be seen with the Inquisition so invite her but not as the star attraction. Invite her as a guest in another event.” suggested Evelyn.

Leliana spoke up. "So, an event that naturally doesn’t put her in the center. Last letter: How about inviting her while the Inquisitor’s family comes to visit.”

“If you’re trying to ruin my day you just did it.” Evelyn said.

Leliana handed the letter to Evelyn. “Our final business. The Trevelyan Family of Ostwick requests a visit.”

“This day may be the worse day ever for letters.” Evelyn said.

“A formal reception for the Inquisitor’s family!” Josephine said enthusiastically.

Evelyn shot her a look. “You do remember they disowned me?"

She groaned loudly and put her head on her hands. "I don't know what's more delightful, the stab to the heart or the bitterness in my mouth." She sighed loudly. "Who doesn't love surprises? Let’s make some decisions here. When is my dear family expected?"

“Five weeks, pending an acknowledgment from us. We could delay them one or two more weeks.” Leliana replied.

“How about the Divine during that time?” Evelyn asked.

"I have an idea. The Haven Memorial's anniversary is next month. The event is already planned. Invite the Divine to give the official blessing." Cullen suggested.

"That's perfect." Leliana said as everyone else agreed.

“Let's work out the details, put a calendar together. Firmed this up by the end of the week. We have things to do so our meeting is done. Thanks, everyone. Cullen and Leliana, stay a moment?” 

“Of course.” Leliana and Cullen said at the same time.

“The letter is about the marriage proposal, isn’t it?" She asked Leliana.

"Marriage proposal?" Cullen sounded confused and hurt.

"You didn’t send a refusal?" Leliana asked.

"I wrote back asking for additional information. I did not extend an invitation. Does it say who is coming?"

"The note says two family members and an entourage of six stewards and ten guards. The only name mentioned was their solicitor, Alex Durkee." Leliana said.

"See, what is unsaid is troubling. Neither mother or father are mentioned. No mention of marriage. If there is a groom why not state his name?" Leliana, do you have any agents in the Free Marches who can look into this?" 

“Of course. Inquisitor, I need to tell you something about your family. Sometime after we reached Skyhold word arrived that your father died. In Haven you told me you didn't want to hear from your family again so I did not inform you. I'm sorry if I was wrong not to say anything.”

"It's okay. It's helpful information now. Let me know if you get anything else. That's all I have for you.” Evelyn said.

Leliana left Cullen at the table.

"You should have told me." He said rather hurt.

"You knew I received proposals. You know I can't marry. I'm just as upset as you for many reasons." She said. "You are the most important person in my life. The Inquisition is my family. We’ll get through it. Okay? Shall we go to dinner?"

"Okay." It's difficult when the topic of family comes up. He would never leave her but it hurts putting aside the dream to marry and have a family.

. 

As protocol dictates, servants met the Trevelyan party at the gate then escorted everyone to appropriate quarters to rest and freshen up. A servant handed Alex Durkee the invitation to the reception honoring the Inquisitor's family.

An elaborate reception waited the Trevelyan family in the main hall. Evelyn sat on the throne flanked by the Council. Josephine insisted she wear a dress, simple yet elegant, appropriate for meeting nobility.

“Another bloody reception.” Cullen said exasperated.

“Commander, this is the Inquisitor’s family.” Josephine said.

“Inquisitor,” Leliana said, “I received some interesting information about Alex Durkee. Alex’s father died shortly after you were taken to the circle. This is the interesting part. As Alex was not of age, Bann Trevelyan became his guardian and trustee of the Durkee estate. The Bann sponsored Alex’s education at the University of Val Royeaux."

Leliana finished just as Alex Durkee approached. Alex, a man about 35 years old, attractive, dark hair, with large bright eyes and was dressed handsomely in a dark leather doublet with a quilted waist coat. 

Before Josephine could make proper introductions, Alex bowed low speaking directly to Evelyn.

“Inquisitor. It has been many years. I can’t expect you recognize me. Alex Durkee, family solicitor and your servant. I'm pleased to see you again.

Josephine interrupted as no one was properly introduced. “Messer Durkee, I am Josephine Montyett, Ambassador to the Inquisition, please let me introduce you to the members of the Inquisition Council.” 

Evelyn shot an angry look which Josephine ignored. As was appropriate, Alex offered a personal greeting to each member after they were introduced. Josephine then quickly led Alex away to acquaint him with dignitaries and nobles in the room.

Evelyn looked to Leliana. “When is it appropriate to grill this man for answers?”

“Tomorrow morning at the scheduled meeting.” Leliana said.

“Where is my mother?” Evelyn asked.

“Since Lady Trevelyan arrived she's kept close to her personal servants. She remains in her room and none of my people could get close enough to find out more.” Leliana reported. 

“As the Inquisition Spymaster, what does all this tell you?” Evelyn asked.

“My guess: Your mother is ill. There are legal issues.”

“How does this involve me? They disowned me! I received no help or words while I was in the Circle. They couldn’t have made it clearer when they sent me a letter saying so. Why now? I don’t understand.” It was hard to hide her bitterness.

“We're your family, not them." Cullen reassured her. "You could use a refreshment.” He lead her down the hall. 

“Please tell me you intend to rip me out of this dress later.” She whispered, “Josephine may stop with the dresses if they all end up in tatters.”

Cullen gently steered her away from prying ears. “Must you say things like that out loud? I’ve already thought it a dozen times.”

“How long does protocol say I have to mingle? Say now is not too early to leave.”

“Maker, help me. Now is too early.” He replied. “I’m trying very hard to be the gentleman.”

Evelyn whispered close into his ear, “Not sure I need a gentleman if I want out of this dress quickly.” 

“You’re killing me, you know.” He said as they walked through the crowd of people. “I’m leaving for Haven in the morning to meet the Divine. I’d much rather stay here.” 

“We have tonight and I’ll be in Haven soon, I promise.”

They hadn’t noticed but Alex Durkee watched them closely.

. 

“You were impatient to speak with me last night, Inquisitor. I apologize the delayed of information.” Alex said to her. “I had no expectations to be treated as nobility.”

“I appreciate that but our ambassador insisted. I never stand on ceremony myself. So, shall we begin?”

“Delighted. You should know that your mother, Lady Trevelyan, is not herself nor has she been for some time. I’ve supervised her care as she has no close relatives. I assure you she is well cared for. You may visit her if you would like. I wanted to prepare you.”

“I appreciate your attention to mother. I understand you represent the family. You’re their solicitor."

“I am the family’s solicitor but there is more.” Alex produced a document and handed it to Evelyn. “This is a marriage contract signed by my father and your father. The contract binds you and me in marriage.”

Evelyn kept her cool and looked over the contract. “This is all very interesting but I have no interest in marriage, nor can I marry you or anyone: A Circle mage cannot marry.” 

“You misunderstand, the document is a legal contract, not a proposal of marriage. I am your husband. The contract was written before you went to the Circle. A mage in the Circle cannot marry but entering a Circle does not dissolve a marriage that already exists. Technically we were husband and wife before you entered the Circle, and is valid again now that we are both of age and you are not in a Circle.”

“I don’t do this lightly, Inquisitor. Your father coveted my families' estate. He refused to sell my inheritance. The Bann found another way. He offered my father a path to nobility if he agreed to a marriage between the families. The Free Marches have laws that allow a man to arrange a marriage of his young children. By signing this marriage contract my father believed he'd become nobility. When you went to the Circle, the marriage was put on hold, Bann Trevelyan was forced to find another avenue.

"When my father passed away Bann Trevelyan became my guardian. He sent me away for schooling. Without my knowledge, and using that contract of marriage, he bound my inheritance to the Trevelyan estate. I was executor of your father's will when he died. The terrible truth was laid out before me. When Lady Trevelyan dies the estate and what rightfully belongs to me goes to a distant Trevelyan relative. I have spent two years trying to unravel this nightmare. I want my family’s estate restored. This contract is the quick and gentle path. I need only claim you as my wife.” 

“So, Sur Durkee, you think to take me as your wife and produce a handful of children to reclaim your estate? You do realize I can crisp you into cinder then accidentally drop you over that balcony?”

“Hold on a moment, I am not your enemy here. We’ve both been wronged. We’ve both lost our inheritance. It was cruel approaching you like this, but now that I have your attention I am asking for your help. Yes, the quickest solution is to consummate the marriage, have children, live happily ever after. It’s not the only solution.”

“If you have another way it is possible you may live through this.”

“I do. If you can lend Inquisition influence and resources I may be able to help us both.”

Evelyn sat back in her chair and thought for a moment. “Obviously my father was a piece of work. I owe it to you to assist in this situation. I am willing to do that. Know that marriage between you and I is bottom of the list of what I am willing to do.”

“Because of the Commander?” 

“And here I thought our relationship was secret.” She replied.

“Worst kept secret in Thedas.” 

“I saved Orlais and Ferelden so I’m entitled to some sunshine and bunnies.” She said. 

“I agree. So, we’re friends during this investigation, yes?” 

“Yes. Come, let’s see Leliana. Maybe she can be of assistance.”

Evelyn led Alex down the main hall and through the Hall of Murals. It wasn’t the shortest route but she felt drawn to Solas’ murals.

Once in the rotunda Alex stopped their progression. “What are these? These are spectacular!” 

“Murals painted by Solas, a member of the Inquisition. They are a bit of a mystery.”

“Has anyone evaluated them? Elven art is filled with stories, symbolism, and hidden messages.”

“Our Archivist examined the paintings and interviewed Solas. He claimed they chronicle the actions of the Inquisition.”

“I can see some of that. There’s more. You need an expert. At the University of Orlais, I had a roommate, a particularly talented artist who specialized in historical elven art. I’d be pleased to bring him to Skyhold.”

Evelyn looked at Alex wondering if he had anymore hidden treasures. “I'll take you up on your offer. If you were hoping to achieve a mutually beneficial relationship that doesn’t involve marriage and children you’ve taken the first step. I believe we’ve reached an accord."

“In that case, you should call me Alex.”

“Call me Evelyn.” She recalled reading the letter written on behalf of the Trevelyan family. Her instincts were right. There was more to that note than a marriage proposal. Alex was a clever man. Hopefully a useful ally.

.

Haven  
“Commander Rutherford!” A furious Divine Victoria storming into the rebuilt Haven Chantry. “Commander, I will speak with you.”

A calm yet attentive Cullen responded. “Your Perfection, of course, how may I serve you?”

“Is this my schedule?” She thrust out a parchment.

Cullen looked at the document. “Yes, Your Perfection. This is the schedule for the Haven Memorial Anniversary.”

Divine Victoria snatched it back. “Welcome given by Commander Rutherford. Histories read by Chancellor Astar. You have Mother Gisselle introducing me? Divine blesses the memorial. What then is this? Faithful pilgrimage to the Temple of Ashes Ruins. Chancellor Astar reads the histories. Again? Pilgrimage to Haven. Another pilgrimage but this time to Skyhold. Do you know how long the walk is to Skyhold?”

He responded respectfully. “Of course, as do you. Took survivors almost two weeks. Of course, we were lost, didn't know where we were going. With the new roads expect three days by foot and less than a day by horse. Count on me by your side the entire time.” 

“I cannot be expected to walk each pilgrimage.”

He gently closed the door. “Divine, the Inquisition set this up for your benefit. Administering to the people is part of the Most Holy’s function. You've had little time for your followers with all that’s expected of you. Outside almost a thousand people gather. They wish to see you. Show them the love and mercy of our new Divine.”

Divine Victoria cracked under his administering. “You were always the Inquisition's most devoted Andrastian. Do not wander from my side, Commander. As for the trip to Skyhold, I’ll ride in my own transport.”

She began to leave then stopped. “Commander. I trust you are fully recovered.”

“Thank you, Your Perfection. I am well but there is no full recovery from lyrium addiction.”

“Yes, I’ve heard about your work here.”

“A small service for those who desperately need it. The Haven Chantry generously provides us a place to meet.”

“Yes. Who doesn’t think well of good deeds. I expect your escort when it is time. Commander.” 

. 

Pilgrims returned from the Temple of Ashes ruins as darkness began moving over the Sky.

Chantry Templars surrounded Divine Victoria but she leaned heavily on Commander Rutherford’s arm. Everyone, from the most common folk to the Chantry’s own templars treated the Commander with great respect, and by proximity, she received the deference due her office. In Haven’s main square a solemn Mother Giselle met them.

“Commander, may I speak with you a moment?”

“Of course, Mother Giselle.” He began separating from the Divine but she simply held tighter. 

“I’m sure this is nothing privileged I cannot hear.” She declared to the Commander and Mother Giselle.

“Of course, Your Worship, this is no secret.” Mother Giselle said.

Mother Giselle stepped closer. “Commander, Brooks collapsed this afternoon in the Chantry. Healers were called but there was nothing to be done. He’s lying in state in the Chantry. Many have already stopped to pay their respects.”

“Thank you, Mother Giselle.” He said respectfully.

“Commander, we do not know his people. As you knew him best, we hoped you’d know."

This time it was the Divine who tried to pull from Cullen’s arm but he held tight for her support.

A templar from the Divine’s guard stepped forward. “We are his people. Brooks belonged to the templars.”

Mother Giselle’s heart gladdened at the declaration. “Of course he was.”

Mother Giselle led them to the Chantry. Cullen following silently with the Divine in tow.

As the Chantry’s highest and Inquisition’s Commander entered, people parted for the two to approach to the alcove where Brooks laid covered in a shroud. People holding candles filled the room to honor a man who became a common sight in Haven. 

In silence, Cullen stood a few moments staring at the white shroud. He released the Divine then he knelt by his friend. After a few moments he began reciting the Chant for the Departed.

“The Light shall lead her safely through the paths of this world, and into the next...”

Other voices joined him, “For she who trusts in the Maker, fire is her water. As the moth sees light and goes toward flame, she should see fire and goes towards Light. The Veil holds no uncertainty for her, and she will know no fear of death, for the Maker shall be her beacon and her shield, her foundation and her sword.”

Templars emerged from the crowd taking position as honor guards around the body. A procession of people began approaching Brooks. 

Divine Victoria watched as people walked up and lightly touched the shroud. Some whispered to the still kneeling Cullen before they departed making way for more mourners. 

Divine Victoria spoke quietly to the templar standing nearest her. “How do you know this man?”

“Your Worship. All templars know his story. After the Circles closed he had a choice: red lyrium or no lyrium. He escaped Therinfal before the corruption. He wandered for almost two years while suffering withdraws. Occasionally he’d find a bit of lyrium but never a steady supply. He heard about a templar in the Inquisition who freed himself from lyrium. Took him months to reach Haven. When he found the Commander he found help and hope.”

The procession of people continued. Late in the night as the crowd thinned the templars remained on guard as did Cullen kneeling in prayer.

Cullen's mind was lost in a world only a templar knows. Lyrium entangled memories. Physical and mental torments from withdrawals that often brought him to his knees. A life crashing even in recovery.

“I’m here, love.” A hand reached around his shoulder. “Come back.”

Cullen looked over to find Evelyn kneeling by him. He fell into her embrace. 

She allowed him time to recover before saying, “Look behind you.”

She helped him stand. The room was filled with templars in full uniform standing at attention.

Knight-Commander Barris stepped forward, respectfully crossing arm across the chest. “Commander. We will watch our brother until morning. Let the Herald take you for rest.”

“Thank you Knight-Commander Barris. I leave him in your good hands.” Evelyn held his hand as they walked outside and to the cabin.

. 

At the height of day, Cullen and Evelyn attended Brooks' funeral pyre. The Divine presided over funeral rites blessing Brooks before sending him to the Maker.

After the funeral, the Divine informed Commander Rutherford she cancelled her scheduled three days in Skyhold. After evening services she returned to Val Royeaux.

The cabin was dark when they returned. Cullen stood like a lost child as Evelyn lit the fire and prepared their bed for the night. He allowed her to undress him. He sat on the bed watching her get ready for sleep. 

Cullen looked blank when he finally spoke. “I’m being pulled into that dark place. My mind's filled with dark thoughts. I feel I'm walking through Kirkwall after Meredith fell. People despair but I don’t understand. The monster fell yet all I see are empty faces walking the streets. They complain that the Champion has fled, that Anders lives, that the city has no leader. I take up the mantel and worked to put the Circle back. My heart bleeds openly as I guide angry templars to a more reasonable path. They don't understand and they don't agree. Months after Kirkwall’s disaster and we still find mages dead by their own hand. 

“I’m looking at everyone else but I’m the empty husk. Service lost its meaning. My purpose unclear. I am walking through the Gallows lost. I find the first light when Cassandra invites me to join the Inquisition and then I find you. Yet I am here lost again in darkness. I don’t know what to do.”

"Tell me how I can help you.”

Cullen looked at the promise sitting next to him. All he sees is yet another Chantry leash choking his hope for a family. Once the Inquisition gave him meaningful service, now they wallow in politics and the Game. “Just hold me.”

Her hold is fierce. She is there for him. He crawls up into bed pulling her to him, wrapping himself around her. His head laid against her hair. For two days he's fought the impulse to cry. He squeezes his eyes tight, jaw clenched, holding back the sobs tied in his chest. His face is wet with tears he cannot stop.

She feel his chest buck, holding back the sobs. It takes a long time before he sleeps. 

As much as he feels lost she is desperate to help him. She doesn’t know what to do for him. A mage cannot truly understand a templar’s mind. Lyrium is a friend to a mage. Lyrium slowly rips apart a templar’s mind. Brooks understood Cullen’s struggles. They were close. Talked about things. Things she cannot understand. 

She stays awake in case the nightmare returns. She knows the desire demon in his nightmare looks like her. What if tonight he sees her face? If he's lost in the nightmare and she tries to wake him? What if he doesn’t know it’s her?

Now it makes sense why one ever startles a sleeping templar. 

. 

Cullen was not in mourning the next day. On the contrary, when he woke he was bitter, irritable and unstable. 

“Do you have a plan for the rest of the day?”

“No.” He snapped back annoyed.

“Suggestion. The Chantry opens early. Go and sit where you and Brooks would talk to Templars. Can you do that?”

“Are you trying to make a point? Am I not acting like I lost a friend? Should I be sad?” The anger was palatable.

“There are no rules how to mourn. You seem to be handling it by keeping me in bed all morning. If it helps. Pretty sure you’ll be up for another round soon. Sorry. Bad timing for funny.”

“It was sarcastic.”

“No, I wasn’t trying… Just suggesting you could help people looking for your help. If you’re going to mope around and be angry go sit in a room with people who need you.”

“Rather than be UP to it as you so elegantly put it.”

“Fine, if we are playing the sarcasm game. Go be angry in a room full of angry templars. Angry sex is not my thing. I'm not complaining about this morning. I'm just not comfortable with angry you. Just go to the Chantry. I’m going to hang with the chickens.”

“What is it with you and chickens?” He spit out.

“Have you hung out with the chickens? Never mind. I don’t want you to discover my secret joy and ruin my fun time. Go to the Chantry.”

He had nothing to say to her so she went about cleaning up breakfast dishes then left to dress. When she returned, Cullen was still sitting at the table staring at his uneaten breakfast. “I thought I was your secret joy.”

“Still here? Didn’t I say go to the Chantry? You’re no secret. Apparently all of Thedas knows you bring me great joy. They don’t know about the chickens.”

He got up and stormed over to Evelyn and pushed her against the wall. “Seems to me angry sex suits you just fine.” 

“Is this heightened virility part of this dark side? Depression, anger, sex?”

“You weren't around... We weren't together during the last..." Cullen's eyes lowered in shame realizing what he was doing. "Yes, more libido.” 

“I may be the only woman in Thedas who doesn’t complain when her man is moody.”

He let up pushing her into the wall, instead gathered her up in his arms. Deeply humiliated at his behavior. "Forgive me."

"Brooks was important to you. You could talk to him about things I'll never understand. Be upset, be mad, What ever you need. What ever helps. If I can stop you from going deep into that dark place I'll do it. Tear my clothes off... if it helps. I much prefer you tear up the dresses Josey insist I wear."

"You look lovely in those dresses. But, if it's important to you, I promise I'll tear you out of every dress she makes you wear."

She beamed up at the man she loved. "See. There you are. There is no dark place you can go that I won't find you. I love you."

"You heading back to Skyhold, now?." He asked.

"My mother is still in Skyhold for a few more days, so I'm expected. First, I have a shirt that needs ripping apart. Got a few minutes?


	21. How It Should Be

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A child comes into magic. Templars and mages decide. Solas's Frescoes examined. The Well of Sorrow prophesy. Anchor quickens. Circle rules do not apply.
> 
> Begins the story based on events in Trespasser.  
> From here forward story is under development. This and any following chapters are subject to revisions, changes and additions.
> 
> (Chapter 90% done. Changes possible especially grammar)

Four Months until the Exalted Council.  
When his duties allowed, Cullen returned regularly to Haven to work with templars trying to overcome lyrium addiction. Evelyn insisted on accompanying him whenever she could for a few political-free days. 

The day before their return to Skyhold, before the evening moon revealed the coming night, they parted at the cabin door. 

"I'll be at the Chantry attending services before heading back to the Memorial." He said.

"Cecilia and I plan to hang out with the chickens. We need chickens at Skyhold. Our troops are a bit bored with little to do except clean their armor for the next parade."

"Don't remind me." Cullen kissed her. "See you later this evening."

Evelyn found Cecilia throwing chicken scratch when she arrived.

"Cecilia, where were you this afternoon?" She asked. 

"Spent some time by the pond." 

"Are you alright? You look a bit serious. It's the chickens, isn't it? You're planning on adopting my chickens and I'll have to petition for visitation rights."

"Ha ha. Like the chickens would ever allow that." Cecilia said.

"See! You're smiling. Chickens do that. I know you miss Brooks. So does Cullen. Let's put our chickens up for the night. Take a walk to the pond?" She suggested.

"Toes in the water?"

"Toes in the water." 

Two Haven residence interrupted their walk to the pond. "Your Worship! We need you, please come! Some child's in trouble, magic or something." 

They took her by the hand nearly dragging her to Haven. Cecilia ran to keep up. At the front gate they stopped where a number of people were gathered.

When the crowd parted Evelyn saw a young man, not yet a teenager, huddled against the fence. The agitated youth put out a hand crackling with sparks as she drew near. "Stay back, I warn you."

Six feet from the boy a woman on her knees was wailing and crying. "Please, Marcus! No one will harm you."

People muttered threats at the boy.

"This is your son?" She asked the woman.

"My son, Marcus. He came into his magic. I don't know what to do. There are no circles." 

"Maybe I can help." She glared at the crowd and they all stepped back. "Cecilia, find the two templars from my guard. Check the Chantry, but don't tell Cullen. Okay?"

The young man yelled, "No templars! They'll kill me. Mother, you promised! No templars!"

Evelyn sat calmly on the ground. "These are not rogue templars, these are from the Inquisition. They protect me when I travel. They can keep these people back while we talk."

"Templars tie up mages and throw them in dungeons. I'll kill them if they try."

"I promise, as the Herald of Andraste, my templars will protect you from anyone who would hurt you." She hated having to pull the Herald title but it worked as he lowered his hands and clutched his legs.

"When did you discover your magic?" She asked.

"Yesterday, my fingers tingled. I couldn't hardly pick anything up. Tiny sparks came out. Mother wrapped up my hands. But today the sparks were bigger."

Evelyn smiled, "Storm magic. My first magic was ice. I was ten, younger than you. I spent days practicing cooling water. Got pretty good at it. You know, I didn't think anything was wrong. I knew it was magic. People said magic was bad but I found it rather useful. Did you know I defeated Corypheus with storm magic?" 

He looked at his hands crackling with magic, "You killed Coryphifish with sparks?"

Evelyn smiled at his use of Sara's nickname for Corypheus. "That's right, Coryphifish. 

"When you got magic did templars come and get you?"

"Yes they did. Gagged me, shackled me, threw a hood over my head so I couldn't see."

"Don't let them do that to me." he begged.

"My templars won't." 

As she spoke two templars in full armor approached causing the boy to huddle up.

"Knight-Commander Barris? I didn't know you were in my escort."

"Came down this afternoon. Replaced a templar who was called home. I hear this young man is just coming into his magic." Barris set his sword on the ground and knelt by Evelyn. 

"Please don't touch me." The boy desperately yelled.

"I won't. But if you don't mind, I'll have these people return to their evening activities. They're making me nervous." Following Barris's example, the second templar laid down his sword then began escorting people away. 

"What happens now?" Marcus asked.

"We become trail blazers." Barris replied. "There are no more rules for mages. No Circles. You get to decide. I have a suggestion. Would you like to go to Skyhold, learn how to use your magic? We have some pretty talented mages who would help you."

Evelyn was greatly relieved. His response was unexpected and most welcome.

"Will I be Harrowed?"

Barris answered him. "What if I said our mages will train you so well that one day you'll know you're ready and you'll volunteer for your Harrowing?"

"What happens to mother?"

"How about you both join me for supper at the tavern? See what we can work out? My treat. As I said, I'd like to help." Barris offered.

Evelyn's eyes were blurry as Barris walk to the young man and offered his hand. Despite the sparks dancing across his hand, the young boy extended his hand accepting the templar's assistance.

"Templars have a special power that can ease your pain, reduce the sparks. Would you like me to help?" Barris asked as he looked at the boy's hands.

"They hurt." The boy said in an honest even tone. 

Trust between templar and mage was put to the test.

"Okay, if it will help." 

Barris covered the boy's hands with his own. He lowered his head and closed his eyes. A lay person unfamiliar with templar powers would see nothing. The boy felt a warm energy flow over his hands, calming his newly discovered magic.

A kind smile passed over Barris's face. "It helped, yes? It's Dispell. We helped the Herald of Andraste close the Breach with that power." 

Barris witness the boy looking up with admiration. Barris turned to the mother and made a proper introduction. 

The second templar picked up the two swords, sheaved his sword in his scabbard and placed the second into his belt. He looked to Evelyn for a command or direction and she said, "Have a nice dinner in the tavern." 

The young templar nodded and headed the direction Barris and the family walked.

"This is your doing." A voice said behind her.

She turned to find Cullen standing further back along with several other witnesses. 

"No, this is how it should be. When a child is in trouble, frightened, looking for help, you don't shackle them, cover them with a hood and toss them in a wagon. That's not help." She gestured toward the departing company, "That is how it should be. A child coming into their magic. Helped, protected, invited. This is what I've fought for." She said.

"Your influence made this happen. In the past four years the templars at Skyhold have come to respect their fellow mages. I've seen them before battles talking up each other. They discuss strategy, come to each other's aid. Templars and mages working side by side with great pride in each other. Your doing. You and now the Inquisition have changed Thedas for the better."

"So maybe there is hope. Makes the last few years worthwhile. I'm happy for that young man. I am proud of Barris and his templars. I am proud of you and your work with lyrium recovery. I'll never regret recruiting the templars to close the Breach." 

.

. 

Four months until the Exalted Council. War Council  
Cassandra and Josephine entered the War Room followed by Knight-Commander Barris and Enchanter Ellendra. 

"Ser Barris, Enchanter Ellendra, welcome. What can we do for you?" Evelyn asked.

"Inquisitor, as you know, the Divine sent the templars a summons to return to Val Royeaux. After much discussion we've decided to consider this a _request_. Without the Nevarran Accord there is no formal agreement binding us to the Chantry."

"We choose to remain as partners with the Inquisition. I hope that you and the Council agree."

Evelyn nodded in agreement. "Thank you Knight-Commander Barris, the Inquisition is honored to have your service."

"Thank you, Inquisitor." Barris responded. 

"Enchanter Ellendra, what is your interest in this?" Evelyn asked.

"Inquisitor, I speak for all the mages here in Skyhold. The mages anticipate that eventually we'll be ordered to the Circle. We won't want to leave the Inquisition. This is our home. The mages wish to re-establish the College of Enchanters here at Skyhold and continue our mutually beneficial partnership with Barris and his templars." Ellendra said.

"Ambitious. I cannot speak for everyone but I see a great potential. Are you seeking a formal alliance with the Inquisition?"

"Inquisitor, yes, as the College of Enchanters. The mages wish to remain with the Inquisition and the templars. We've worked well together for the last four years. We want to continue that."

Leliana didn't miss Evelyn's pleased smile she tried to conceal. Everyone else at the table had a look of utter surprise.

Evelyn thanked the two and dismissed them.

"This will not go over well with Divine Victoria." Josephine remarked.

"You already knew about this, Inquisitor." Leliana said, "You never fail to amaze me. You play the Grand Game exquisitely." 

"Don't mistake what I do as the Game. The Game is about selfish endeavors: ambition, one-upmanship, seduction, intrigue, manipulation. It's not about helping others or finding solutions that best benefit the people. 

"I'm fully aware of the Divine's summons. She means to take the templars without formalizing the relationship. 

"We all agreed that the best way to stabilize the Chantry is to push Divine Victoria to operate within the Chantry’s rules. She bypassed the hierarchy again by not working with her own Grand Clerics to write a new Nevarran Accord. Chantry resistance is Divine Victoria own doing.

“I'm not playing the game, I'm simply insisting she play by Chantry rules. Rules she was elected to and sworn to follow. This is far from over. I suspect as Ellendra does that the Divine will come for the mages, including me." Evelyn said.

"You're obsessed with this. The Divine hasn’t said anything about putting you into a Circle in two years." Cassandra said. 

Evelyn looked at Cassandra incredibly. "Divine Victoria told me I'd be put in the Circle every opportunity she could before we defeated Corypheus. Abruptly she quits talking about it. Please tell me someone here plays the Grand Game well enough to see what that means?" She rolled her eyes. 

A guard entered the room. "Pardon, Your Worship, Sur Durkee and his guest are here. They're with the paintings."

"Thank you. I'm on my way. Meeting adjourned." Evelyn stood and headed to Solas' old room. 

. 

Alex greeted Evelyn and introduced his associate, a tall, thin wiry man who seemed more arm and leg than body. "Inquisitor, let me introduce Dreth Mordine, Art Historian from the University of Orlais."

"Yes, Inquisitor. Already peeked in room. Overwhelming. Let's go see."

"Lead the way, Sur Mordine." She said as she looked puzzled to Alex 

"Not Sur. Common born. Just Dreth or Mordine, your choice. Come."

"Sometimes I just step aside and let him go. Better that way." Alex wispered. 

They all stepped into the room Solas once occupied and where his murals remained. Mordine began examining one then quickly moving to the next.

"These are the paintings." Evelyn announced.

"No. Not paintings. Frescoes. Both art and craft. Fine art and ancient craft. Plaster laid on wall. Plaster rests for an hour. Pigment applied to plaster. Race to finish. Must apply pigment in under nine hours. Plaster and pigment rests. Dry and set together. A days work. Yes. One day empty wall. Next finished panel. Done. Yes." 

He stopped at the final panel. "Wait! Look. Final panel? Unfinished? Maybe. Interrupted? Yes. Dried before artist completed work. Ruined? Maybe. Perhaps intention. Cannot be changed. It is what it is." 

"Mordine, is this the story of the Inquisitor and Inquisition?" She asked.

"First look. The big story. Taa-da! Says more. Look. 

"First panel. Line drops to Mountain. Many eyes watch. Great energy. Above Fade damaged. See? Black City? Hmm. Second panel. Eye and sword. Inquisition symbol. Yes. Four wolves? Choir of wolves? Part of Inquisition? Wolves celebrate Inquisition?"

He suddenly turned to Evelyn. "Do you have wolves? Inquisition wolves?"

"No. Inquisition has no wolves." She answered.

"Hmm. More wolves than Inquisition. Next. Look. Upside down castle. Hmm. Three handed man? Long scary fingers? A templar? Looks like but isn't. Demon? Maybe. Interesting. Yes." 

Mordine moved to the next panel. "Corypheus. Haven burns. Hands in orb? Second orb? Orb in orb? Look. Orb power flows to Haven? Perhaps. Corypheus glows red. Red lyrium? Interesting.

"Next. Grey Warden shield. Battle of Adamant? Yes. Plants around castle? No. Castle in wasteland. Oh! Huge circle. Very important. Circles within circles? Wait! Black City? Fade? Both? Yes. See. Dark bricks. Barrier between Fade and World. Fade. Second barrier gold. Deeper in. Gold is magic. Bricks are gold. Inside eyes. City above and city underneath. Black City. Yes. 

"Ah. yes, Empress Celene. Flanked by court. Interesting. Body small. Dress huge. Yes. So much to say. Assassin close by. Hiding in plain sight. Weapon concealed. 

"Next panel. Mirrored fighters? Guardians? Perhaps. Look. Blue veins. Blue lyrium veins? Yes. Look. Shapes above figures. Stars? Triangles and diamonds. Number and shape not the same. Ah. Golden ball. Sits on path. Going where? Eluvian? Yes and no. Destination important. Travel to orb. Place of pure magic. Yes. 

"The final panel. Large wolf. Stomping on front feet? Howling? Barking? Happy? Dragon. Killed by sword? Sword symbolic? Yes. Hum. A dragon? Yes and no. Look. Two things. Dying dragon. Step back. It’s a foot. A titan’s foot?"

"So what does it mean?" She asked.

"Means? Means many things. Trials of Inquisition? Where is Inquisitor? Not here. See? Miss rest of story."

"What am I missing?" She asked.

Mordine circled around with his arms out. "A viewpoint. You don't see. Busy looking for your story. Miss what is important. Story is one person’s view. 

"Wolf in the final panel. Catches the attention. Who is the wolf? Wolf is a story. Artist is elf, yes? Human story have wolf dressed in sheep clothing. Elf story similar. Wolf is the trickster. Fen'Harel. Yes. The elves’ trickster wolf. Now we get somewhere. The artist's viewpoint.

"But odd. Dread Wolf never center. Always outside. Trickster is outcast, feared. Look at this wolf. Larger than dragon. As large as Titan. Second panel has four wolves. Trickster is single wolf. Four is a pack. Interesting.

"Portrait of Corypheus. Very, very large. Interesting. Insight? Yes. This panel. Black city. Not Andrastian view. Elf view? All his viewpoint. Very personal.

"Must spend time here. Make detail notes. Sketches."

I guess we're keeping you for a few days." Evelyn said to Mordine.

"Yes. Stay. Sleep in here. No trouble to anyone. Yes." Mordine replied as he dug through his bag and pulled out writing utensils and parchment.

"Keep watch on him. He'll get lost in his work. Forgets to eat." Alex said to the Inquisitor. They left Mordine with the Frescoes, happy as a fish in water.

. 

(Below under construction)

Six weeks before the Exalted Council  
Correspondences between Council Members  
Note to Leliana. Not fooling me. Official dispatch from Divine Victoria _reads_ like a invitation to a fancy affair at the Winter Palace. I can read between the lines. "Most Holy, Divine Victoria the First (doom), requests Inquisition attendance (or off with your head) to attend the Exalted Council (Exalted March is crusade against heretics...we're doomed.) at the Winter Palace (Cullen's survival iffy...doom) in six weeks (time enough to write wills not enough to convert to the Qun). Signed Divine Victoria. Attention to: (soon to return to the Circle) Inquisitor (Doom, doom, doom)."

Note to Inquisitor. Ah, yes, the famous big-eye frightened I'll-be-sent-to-a-Circle mage humor. Funny the first 72 times. Now just annoying. Josey has dress plans for you. Signed Leliana.

Note to Inquisitor. You are not the only one wearing a dress this time. Leliana and I deserve to wear dresses, too. And, I know what's happening to your dresses. No more leaving through the gardens tearing up your dress. Try to be a lady. If you want to leave early just let me know. Signed Josephine.

Note to Josephine: No. Signed Cullen.

Note to Josephine: Cassandra doesn't have to wear a dress?! Signed Inquisitor. PS Really? You think dresses damaged because I walked through the garden? 

. 

(Seriously - Below under construction)

Four weeks before the Exalted Council  
The atmosphere around Skyhold was quiet and calm while the rest of Thedas was mired in political wrangling. The Divine continued bothering the Inquisition about it's activies in Orlais and Fereldan. Ferelden and Orlais blissfully unaware of a third silent agenda sitting right between them.

(Under construction).

The day before returning to Skyhold, Cullen and Evelyn spent quiet time weeding their garden in Haven. The work reminded Cullen of his family's farm. Relaxed, a smile drifted across his face. He couldn't remember ever being so happy.

Evelyn stood from a patch of carrots and walked to him, “Stop for a rest?”

Cullen looked up, “Sounds good.”

She ran her hands over his shoulders, “I’ll fetch some water.”

He stood and wiped his brow. He tucked his gloves into his pocket.

The peace and calm gave him a moment to reflect. They've grown to loved this place. Days were spent keeping their garden, caring for chickens, relaxing by the pond. Evenings he spent in Haven working with templars struggling with addiction. Here with a few days away from Skyhold they both took everything in stride. Cullen sat on the garden stool, thinking how lucky he was, how happy he was.

She walked up from behind and handed him a cup of water.

“Thank you, love.” He liked saying that.

She took a couple steps past him looking over the small garden. His eyes followed her, appreciating her. 

They spent a wonderful morning making love. The thought spread warmth all over him kindling a desire. Later, Cullen, later. Now was a time for work. Plenty of time for that later. He smiled as he sipped water.

Evelyn suddenly gasped, her cup fell to the ground water splashing all over. He moved to her. Her eyes were wide with fear. She seemed unaware he was standing in front of her.

He placed his hands on her shoulders and spoke urgently “Evelyn, love, what is it?”

Breathless, she looked directly at him, “He’s looking for me.”

Hair stood up on his neck, “Who’s looking for you?”

His attention snapped to a sudden loud crackling from her left hand. Intense pain forced her to extend the arm away from her side. The dormant Anchor came to life as a green energy burned its way through skin. He felt magic radiating from the Mark.

Frightened, he watched her tremble in pain. His hands on her shoulders tighten, pulling her attention. "Who? Evelyn, who!?”

Her eyes blazed, “Fen’Harel! The Dread Wolf!”

He searched her eyes for understanding as the Anchor cracked louder. He was frightened. Why now? Everything was in its place. Even the Exalted Council didn't worry them. 

Cullen held her tightly. "No, no! We’re happy."

. 

Skyhold  
By nightfall, Cullen and Evelyn arrived in Skyhold. Leliana meet them at the gate and escorted them to the Mage Tower. As Cullen helped Evelyn to the tower, he regretted for the first time that Anders was sent to Weisshaupt. He could have help her.

At the top of the stairway Cole suddenly appeared blocking the entrance.

"Cole, move! She needs help!" He didn't want to deal with the spirit boy now.

"It's the Veil. It's trapped. It wants out!" Cole insisted. He spoke directly to Evelyn. "You need Solas!"

Evelyn took in the words as Cullen pushed him aside. A group of mages met them at the door. 

"Cullen..." Evelyn started.

He interrupted her, "We don't know where Solas is. We'll do the best we can." 

Evelyn understood what Cole said. She spoke to the mage at the door, "We need a Rift Mage. Do we have anyone specialized in the Fade?"

"We do. Solas mentored two elf mages, Devins is here." A young elf mage, younger than Evelyn, stepped forward."

"I can help but everyone needs to leave." The young elf looked directly at Cullen and Leliana. 

"I will be looking for Solas." Leliana said in exasperation as the search for Solas was two years cold.

Cullen spotted Cole outside the tower. He roughly grabbed the boy by his arm, "Why did you say it was the Veil?"

"Breathing together. Stronger in her arms. She's your heart." He said to Cullen.

Cullen eased up his hold on Cole, moved his hand to his shoulder. "I'm sorry. Tell me what you know."

"The Veil is trapped in the anchor. Rifts lets the Veil flow. Solas knows. He kept the Anchor safe."

"Where is Solas?"

"Busy."

"I mean physically...were is Solas?" He asked, trying to be patient.

"Hidden. Between. I can't see him. He knows the Anchor hurts." 

Cullen shook his head. The more questions he asked the more the answers made no sense. He rubbed his forehead, he felt a headache coming on.

"She's better." Cole said and then vanished.

The tower door opened and a mage summoned Cullen inside.

. . 

Two weeks until the Exalted Council. War Council  
“Thank you for seeing me. I understand you are about to depart for Halamshiral so I won't keep you. I'm here with good news." Alex Durkee spoke to Evelyn, Leliana and Cullen.

“Let me give you the bottom line. Those rules about mages such as cannot inherit, cannot hold a position of power or take a title, mages cannot marry or have families are not etched in stone nor are they laws or even rules. They are guidelines. 

"The Chantry created guidelines to help the Circles function better, and to standardized Circles across Thedas. Each Circle’s First Enchanter and Knight-Commander use these guidelines as they saw fit.

"A good example is the Circle of Montsimmard allowing Vivienne to live with her patron, Duke Bastien de Ghislain year round at his estate. Her Circle allowed her because they could. Kirkwall didn't allow mages to visit families but Ostwick Circle allowed mages from noble families excursions home. Each Circle had discretion as it saw fit.

"If a Circle strayed too far from the guidelines the Chantry could go as far as using the Rite of Annulment as they did at the Circle of Daismuid. The Rite keeps Circles in hand and following guidelines. 

Finely, these guidelines apply only to mages in the Circle. Outside the Circle the rules don’t apply. Good examples of this is the mage Malcome Hawk who married and raised three children, two who had magic.

"I found proof of this by examining the Nevarran Accord and multiple Chantry Charters for Circle of Magi. Inquisitor, you are not a member of a Circle so you may inherit. The Trevelyan’s estate is yours." 

Alex laid documents on the table. "This is a petition for control of your family’s estate as your mother is infirm unable to make sound decisions. The second is a petition to reinstate your family’s estate to its original entailed holdings, separating my family's estate from yours. From here I depend on your good will to return my inheritance."

“Thank you, Alex. Leliana will go over those documents with you, make sure everything is in order. You'll have your family's estate."

“One more thing, Alex. Our bargain included destruction of a certain marriage document."

“Say no more.” He handed over marriage contract. “It is yours to destroy. You've proven yourself a trustworthy and clever woman. I offer my services to you or the Inquision should you need my help. And thank you for not burning me to cinder and dropping me off your balcony.”

“You are welcome. Alex, may I retain your services to manage my family’s estate? Are there family resources to pay you a fare wage?”

“I would be honored to handle your estate and look over your mother’s care. Yes, you can afford me. We can go over those matters when you return from Val Royeaux.”

“Sur Durkee, shall we go to the Rookery?” Leliana led Alex out of the room.

“Marriage document?” Cullen asked.

“Required sex to seal the deal. He wouldn’t made it two feet from me before you disemboweled him or I burned him to ash, as he pointed out.

"Good to know." He replied.

She furrowed her eyes in thought. “People go to great lengths to take what they covet. My father did that to the Durkee family. Alex is a good man but he was forced to twist himself to get back what belonged to his family. He believed deception was necessary to get to me. I would have help if he just asked.”

Cullen responded, "Once upon a time the Inquisition stood on Haven's open fields. Everyone working and living in tents. Anyone could walk up to any of us and we would listen. Now the Inquisition stands behind the massive walls of Skyhold. You live in a fortified keep and I work in a tower. The Inquisition isn't as approachable as we once were. We've changed."

"Have I changed that much?" 

"You still give everyone a chance, you trust too much. You think the two templars and two soldiers who follow you everywhere are your friends but they are your guards. It's your strength, too. People like Blackwall whose done terrible things won a second chance. The Inquisition is stronger because of this." Cullen said.

"Duck and dodge maybe my most important people skill. Gives people a second chance and me a second opportunity to know people like Brooks and Blackwall. Gave me you."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "It's the Veil. It's trapped and wants out!" Cole in Trespasser.
> 
> Source Materials  
> Solas Frescoes:http://rebloggy.com/post/solas-skyhold-solas-meta-rotunda-frescoes-skyhold-rotunda-solas-paintings-solas/122544768009


	22. Welcome Back to the Winter Palace

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Trespasser  
> Exalted Council. Ferelden and Orlais delegates. Tevinter Ambassador. The Divine's Offer. A mabari. A proposal. Talk with companions. Marriage.
> 
> (80% done - Final section pending. Changes possible. Nothing set in stone.)

(Changes possible especially grammar and spelling and English)

The Winter Palace. Towering golden lions flank every door, every portico greeting all to its gilded halls. Ceilings so vast that a flock of birds flying above could stir the air unnoticed by the dancing nobles in silk gowns and embroidered coats, their jeweled masks hiding wicked souls. Orlesian intrigues played out in blue painted halls, the Grand Game making and breaking its participants.

Welcome back, Inquisition, to the Winter Palace. Just three years past lifting the Inquisition to high status praising its deeds to all. Now it seeks to tear its hero back down. 

Escorted by an Orlesian guard dressed more decorative than defender, Inquisitor Trevelyan was led through the Palace garden crowded with nobles curious of the coming proceedings. She passed through a set of golden gates with bars of no strength: A pack of toddlers could topple it over. 

The guard led the Inquisitor to the chamber where the Inquisition would meet its judges. The room’s décor of white walls trimmed with gold was better suited to a wedding rather than the next day’s proceedings about the Inquisition's future. Chairs for on-lookers and the Inquisition were arranged on ground level. Their jury and judge, the Ferelden and Orlais delegates, and Divine Victoria would tower above the room, superior stature over all, on a bench raised three times the height of the audience. Evelyn's neck would ache from looking up. Exactly what they hoped.

Evelyn knew Leliana still worried she was inept at the Grand Game. Josey thought her ill suited to diplomacy. Cullen worried she'd forget to use the right end of a sword. Looking around this room, the Divine thinks little of her too. Maybe they're right. Is the Grand Game the better way to deal with people? Conceal your best moves and second options? Should we placate through diplomacy? Or take up swords? Maybe she's just been lucky the last four years. Not good luck or bad luck but the strangest luck ever. 

The spontaneous flaring of the Anchor interrupted Evelyn's thoughts. It sparked and glowed shooting painful magic through her skin. Sweat beaded across her brow. 

The Anchor's two year silent since the fall of Corypheus ended several weeks ago. Simultaneously the Well of Sorrows woke murmuring warnings about the Dread Wolf. In that moment she wasn't too sure what gave her more concern: The Well of Sorrow, the Anchor, or the political machinations. 

Mother Giselle gently announced herself from behind, “Welcome, Your Worship, to the Exalted Council. Divine Victoria is speaking with our delegates so she sent me to greet you.”

“Mother Giselle. A pleasure to see you again.”

“A delight to see you, Your Worship. The Inquisition stayed busy these last two years. I’ve worked with the Commander’s soldiers helping the refugees at Emprise Du Lion and the Dales. I thank your people for remaining to help rebuild both areas. I and many others are witness to your continued efforts.” 

“Standing in this room it’s hard to believe anyone has noticed. I should go to Divine Victoria.” 

“You’ll find the Divine on the Bath's terrace speaking with the Ferelden delegate. The Orlesian delegate is speaking with the Tevinter ambassador. If you are looking for your people, Commander Rutherford and Sister Leliana are in the gardens adjacent to the Baths. Seeker Cassandra is staying as far away from the nobles as possible. She is on the opposite side of the gardens where the Inquisition is set up. You will find your companions there gathered by the tavern.

“Thank you. Mother Giselle.”

“If I may ask, this Exalted Council considers the future of the Inquisition. What do you think of the Inquisition’s future?

“By closing the Breach and bringing down Corypheus, the Inquisition fulfilled its primary purpose. We continue today intending to rebuild what Corypheus destroyed. As to the future I think all of us want to serve. We’ll see how that works for this council.”

“Thank you, Inquisitor. Welcome back to the Winter Palace.”

Evelyn returned outside. She stood on the patio overlooking the gardens. She continued down the stairs and turned left toward the Baths.

Leliana caught her as she entered the gardens.

“Ah, Inquisitor. I’m glad I caught you. Walk with me?”

As they walked slowly through the gardens, Evelyn shared her thoughts. “I’m not sure about this Exalted Council, Leliana. Ferelden complains about our presence in their territories yet they've never asked us to leave. Orlais isn't complaining. Orlais believes they should provide administration to a “fledgling” organization. Why do Ferelden and Orlais complain to the Divine rather than talk directly to us?”

“I’m surprised Inquisitor. You are better at the Game than this. You understand the real reason for this council.” Leliana said. 

“Look behind the grandstanding. You feel it, no? The fear. They seek to tear the Inquisition down. But it’s not our army or our vault of secrets, or our connections. There have always been spymasters, private armies, and ambassadors. They are afraid of nothing so much as the hand that directs it all.”

“Who? Ah, yes. Me.”

“Your actions have begun to reshape Thedas. Your influence is felt everywhere. The templars and mages working side by side. Seekers re-organizing, sharing their secrets. Redemption, atoning over justice. You and Barris created quite a stir over your handling of the young boy coming into his magic.

“Don’t you see? Orlais and Ferelden didn’t go to the Divine with their complaints. She found them. No one fears your influence more than the Divine. You haven’t stood in her way, you haven’t criticized or openly denounced her actions, yet she feels the reproach.

“It was only a matter of time before they moved. I’m surprised it took this long.” Leliana said.

“That doesn’t give them the right to decide our future.” Evelyn grumbled.

“Inquisitor, we set out to restore peace. And now peace is upon us. It's difficult to lay down your blade and accept that things have changed. We can still work for the good of Thedas without the Inquisition. The time for soldiers and spies has passed. The World is ready to move past the horror of the Breach and Corypheus. And so should we.” 

“Thank you, Leliana. I should find the Divine.” 

Evelyn took the stairs to the balcony and walked right into Dorian and Lord Cyril in discussion. Bless Dorian, when he saw her he pushed Lord Cyril aside. “Pardon me but I see an old friend I must greet.”

“Dorian! You’re the Ambassador from Tevinter?” She was genuinely surprised.

He hugged her generously. “A reward for my interest in the South. Just a token. But what is important is I get to see my dearest friend. You do know they circle like vultures, right?”

“All too aware. But I want to hear about you. I’ve missed talking with you so much. No one gossips like you.” She replied.

“Or has such velvety smooth voice and perfect outfits.” 

“You know me. I’d be happy with a flour sack and a pair of black socks”

“Oh you are a challenge, my dear. One I can never let go of. A little present.” Dorian handed her a crystal on a necklace. “A talking crystal. Anytime you want to hear my velvety smooth voice I’m a bit of magic away.” 

“Awe. Thank you, Dorian.” She hugged him in thanks. Besides Cullen, Dorian was the single other person she felt completely at ease hugging.

“Feel free to activate it while you and the Commander are having intimate relations.”

“Dorian!”

“Never mind. I have more fun imagining: The things you and the Commander do would make a prostitute blush.”

“So you heard we're back together.”

“I like to think you never broke up. Just a small hiatus while the Commander was doing his lyrium suffering thing.”

“You knew about that too?”

“I lived in Skyhold, my dear. Gossip traveled faster than the cold winds. But, I can see Lord Cyril would like to speak with you. I’m here for you. Good luck, my dear.” After a quick hug, Dorian left Evelyn with the Orlesian noble. 

Evelyn greeted the Orlesian Delegate. “My Lord.”

“Inquisitor. Lord Cyril de Montfort. It is an honor to meet you. I’ve long followed your work. Extraordinary. Know that Empress Celene and Orlais stand beside you, ready to lend a hand if you need us.”

“Is that the official word, my Lord?”

“Of course. Orlais recognized the good the Inquisition has done and how much it help Orlais.”

“Thank you, Lord Cyril.”

“Of course, Inquisitor. If you will excuse me, I believe the Divine is waiting for you.”

Evelyn walked down to the other side of the balcony set aside for the Ferelden delegate. She found Bann Teagan and the Divine in polite discussion.

“Pardon me. May I interrupt?” Evelyn asked of the two.

Bann Teagan replied, “Of course, Inquisitor.”

“You are not interrupting,” The Divine said cheerfully. “We were expecting you. May I introduce Bann Teagan Guerrin representing Ferelden. The Inquisitor, Evelyn Trevelyan.” 

“Your worship.” He replied to Evelyn.

Divine Victoria turned to Evelyn. “I do need to speak with you, Inquisitor. Have a moment with Ferelden and I’ll meet you at the lower gardens.”

“How are things in Denerim, Bann?”

“Denerim is fine. We do not forget our savior.”

“What is your opinion of the Exalted Council?”

Teagan tone changed to one of an angry father. “The Breach is closed and Corypheus is two years dead and yet the Inquisition is still wandering in Ferelden territory. We are not comfortable with an unaffiliated armed force on our borders.”

“Thank you for sharing your concerns with me, Bann Teagan. The last I looked we were rebuilding the areas Corypheus tore apart. Our 'army' is more a 'corp of engineers' of late. More soldiers carry hammers than swords.” She pointed out gently.

“These are matters best discussed in the chambers. Good day, Inquisitor.”

Nice, she thought to herself, and left to find the Divine.

(Above under construction)

. 

(Changes possible - mostly grammar, English) 

“Inquisitor, let us speak, not as Divine and Inquisitor, but as two who speak plainly to each other, as few do.” Divine Victoria said.

That was some opening, Evelyn thought. “Of course.”

“For two years I’ve kept Orlais and Ferelden from bothering the Inquisition at increasing political cost. I’ve done all I could but this Exalted Council became necessary. 

“And the problems being…?” She asked.

“Orlais sees the Inquisition as an inexperience organization in need of oversight. Ferelden is concerned of it's growing military power. Orlais would take it over and Ferelden would see it dissolved. I offer a third option.”

“Uh huh.” And here it comes Three guesses and her guess will be right.

“Bring the Inquisition under the Chantry. The armed forces would serve as my personal guard. Assets, workers, and properties absorbed into the Chantry. Everyone retained.”

“Everyone? Commander, spymaster, ambassador, and Inquisitor?”

“Divine Justina intended the Inquisition to be part of the Chantry. The Inquisition’s work, your work can continue. You may not see it yet but in the long run I offer the better choice. 

“I’ll add it to our considerations.” Evelyn said but what she meant was 'no way'. 

“Worried for the mages? For yourself? Mages will have a greater role to play in the future, they’ll be given new responsibilities. They will not sit idle as you once professed was your fate in the Circle. Even now my guards include mages.”

“Mages in your guard like those who interrupted a riot just two weeks ago?” She asked the Divine.

“Exactly. A swift response. No blood shed, no deaths. No swords drawn. No one was hurt. The crowd was controlled. Justice served on the leaders. Everyone else released."

“You just don’t see it do you? This is exactly what people fear. People accept magic during a blight or war or fighting Corypheus. Using magic against people won’t end well.”

“Nonsense. I wielded magic like a fine surgical knife. Extracting problems with precision not running through a crowd like a berserker. Magic is a better way.” The Divine explained with such surety. 

“A better way like your lyrium schedule for the templars?”

“Templar numbers are too low to effectively cover the needs of both Circles and Chantry. Bringing the Inquisition under the Chantry will more than double templar numbers. It’s not passed my attention that your templars haven’t responded to the Chantry’s notice to appear. You should see to this.” 

“Here’s the thing, Your Perfection. They are not my templars or even the Inquisition’s templars.” 

“Ah, yes. You recruited the Order as equal partners. Generous of you. Nevertheless, they follow your orders.”

“I do not own them. They decide for themselves. They're watching how you handle your templars.” 

“I see.” The Divine replied.

“If you seek to win templar support I have a suggestion. A gesture. Give Chantry support to Commander Rutherford’s work with templars suffering from lyrium withdraws.

“What do you have in mind?”

“You saw what he and Brooks were doing in Haven. Speak to Commander Rutherford. He knows what is needed. Consider it the goodwill you need to recruit more templars. Let them know the Chantry isn’t abandoning them.” 

“I might consider it. One gesture for another.”

“One gesture for another?” 

“You ask something from me and in return you do something for me.” 

“Why must everything be a trade-off? Doing something because it’s good is all one needs to act. When the right action must give concession to outside interests we are corrupted. Bribery isn’t just about coin. Someone who has no right to be involved “trades in” to become part of an action because it benefits them."

_“I’ll sell you wood so you’re people don’t freeze to death but only if your army guarantees me all future wood sales. Decide quickly because your people are getting frostbite as we speak. Don’t worry that you’re just a Corporal. I’m sure you can convince your General to agree, yes? Hurry. Your people are dying.”_

You need the templars so I must hand them over and in return you’ll give Commander Rutherford the ability to do good work. You corrupt yourself asking me to do this and I am corrupt if I agree even if I believe the Commander’s work is needed. No. You act alone. Ask the templars, demand, insist, and threat: Your actions are yours alone.” 

“You asked my help with the commander’s work. You called it a gesture.”

“I suggested a way to demonstrate your good will. No strings attached. Say no and you prove yourself in no better light than before. No harm done. 

“Maker, if you can’t see the difference you’ve played the Grand Game as your only real way to deal with people. Don’t come to me when you call back the mages. I won’t herd them into your Circle. If you want the mages show you have their best interest in heart." Evelyn said.

“Inquisitor, the mages will be called to the Circle. Your support will make the transition go smoother.”

“There you go again. I am not the leader of the apostate mages. They are free and make their own choices.” 

“Now, who is being naive here? You have influence over both templars and mages.”

“I have influence and the good will of others because I specifically don’t impose on people, apostates, templars, the Chantry, you, or even Orlais and Ferelden.”

Divine Victoria looked at her sternly.

“I cannot say yes or no to anything. Everything under consideration. But my soul is not up for trade to help you nor will I be corrupted even for the benefit of the templars, the mages or the Commander. Find your heart, Your Perfection. I think we’ve spoken long enough.” 

The whole business with Divine Victoria left a bad taste in her mouth. She decided to walk to the Inquisition side of the gardens.

. 

(Still Under Construction - changes possible)

Evelyn left the Bath area when she spotted Cullen playing fetch with a mabari. Just out of view she watched as he threw the ball to the dog. Despite his large size, the dog skillfully caught the ball mid-air. The proud dog jumped about excitedly as if to say, “Caught the ball! Caught the ball!”

Cullen called the mabari like a Commander speaking to a recruit. “You there! You’re to dodge, not catch. If that ball were a fireball, you’d be dead.” 

The dog bounced his way back and dropped the ball at Cullen's feet. He barked excitedly. Cullen knelt down and rewarded him with lots of fur rubbing. 

Her discomfort from talking with the Divine fell away as she burst into a joyous laugh. She felt like she was sped away from the Winter Palace and was standing in Haven outside the cabin.

“You found a dog.” She said approaching the two.

“They don’t breed mabari in Orlais. The merchant said he was abandoned. Perhaps his owners tired of the novelty.” he said.

She leaned down and began petting the massive dog who looked intimidating but was absolutely lovable. “Tire of you? With that positive attitude and fetching ability?”

Cullen scowled as the dog barked in approval. “He’s not supposed to fetch the ball.”

Evelyn looked amused, “I don’t think you understand how fetch the ball works. You’ve never owned a dog before, have you?”

Cullen continued petting the dog who turned over on his back for a belly rub. “Another unfortunate Ferelden trapped at the Winter Palace. I couldn’t leave him to that fate. Besides, I think he likes me.”

The dog sat up and licked Cullen’s face. Cullen acted disgusted but a grin said he was delighted. Whatever problems burdened the Inquisitor and the Commander were forgotten. 

“You could take him to Ferelden. He should know where he came from.” 

“In my last letter to my sister I did promise a visit. We could bring him along.” Cullen looked sternly at the dog. “She might try to spoil you. Remember who you report to.”

The dog barked and returned to a belly up position for more scratches. 

Cullen looked peaceful as he attentively scratched the dog’s belly.

“The Inquisition will change after this. I’m not yet sure what that will mean. Still, I’ve found certainty in my life now. The council won’t change that.” He stood and looked at Evelyn meaningfully.

Evelyn continued to fuss over the dog. “When you wrote to your sister how you did you refer to me? Girlfriend? Sweetheart? I haven’t rightly decided what sounds right myself. Partner? Boyfriend? None of those fit.”

“How about husband?”

“Husband?” She looked up very alarmed.

“Marry me.” He said perfectly calm.

The dog barked in approval. 

“What?” She was still wide eyed like she wasn't sure if she was still in Thedas.

Cullen’s natural discomfort about emotional topics took over. “ …I mean, will you? _(Sighs)._ I had a plan, and… And there wasn’t a dog. And you were… It doesn’t matter.” He surrendered completely and returned to a contented smile. 

“I’m a mage…”

“You’re not in a Circle. You know it's possible. I’ve thought of little else. Only to know if you would.”

Circle worries dissolved. The Inquisition disappeared. The Exalted Council unimportant.

“I would, Cullen, I will.”

“You will.” Cullen glowed in happiness. The dog barked in approval. 

He stepped closer to her. They looked ready to leap into each others arms. Just a few inches away, restraining the impulse. Too many people were near. Anyone looking would notice they stood but a breath between each other. The dog bounced around barking.

“Marry me, today.” He said blissfully.

“People will notice the Inquisitor marrying her Commander in the middle of the Exalted Council. It won't go over well.”

“We know a few people who can keep things…secret.”

“When?”

“Tonight, when things settle down. After dark, when the moon is brightest.”

“Who knew you were such a romantic.”

“For my wife, always.” 

Took every once of strength not to kiss him all over. “There is never a closet around when you need it.”

Cullen smiling at the Winter Palace. Someone was bound to figure it out.

“I have a few more people I have to meet.” She said.

“I’ll take care of the arrangements.” He continued smiling as he looked down to the dog. “We have duties to attend to, soldier.”

.

(Below changes possible - mostly grammar, English)

In the early evening, Evelyn and Thom Rainer, formally known as Blackwall, sat in conversation outside the Tavern. Inside the tavern was filled with noisy Inquisition people including all her former companions. Evelyn decided Leliana sent out a “distress” message across Thedas and everyone showed up. 

“How many times did you get hit?” She asked Blackwall. 

“So many times I quit counting. But I know how to take a punch. Making restitution wasn’t going to be easy but I wanted them to see there’s a way to come back from nothing. Tough as it’s been, I’m grateful you gave me a second chance.”

“I believe in restitution, earning forgiveness. Not everyone sees when they‘ve done wrong, that they should make things right. You did. Even fewer find a way to make it right. You have.”

“I’m a better man for doing it, for doing the right thing. Thank you.”

Iron Bull emerged from the tavern interrupting their talk. Abruptly picking up Evelyn, the massive Qunari set her on his shoulder. He walked her into the tavern where Sara held up a mug in a toast. “A toast to the Inquisitor! To the Inquisition! Big heroes, us! Next round is on the Inquisitor!” The whole tavern cheered to Sara’s toast.

“Bull, put me down!” Evelyn fussed.

“Promise you’ll drink with us and I will.” 

“I promise. Now put me down you big goof!” The Iron Bull set her back down as Sara handed them both a mug of ale. 

Sitting at a smaller table near the front, Varric caught Evelyn’s attention and pointed to her to chair next to him.

“Sit. I have something for you, Inquisitor. As the new Viscount of Kirkwall, I am granting you the title of Comtesse and an estate in Hightown. If things don’t work out for the Inquisition you have a place lined up in Kirkwall. For you and Curly, of course, and the new dog.”

“You know about the dog? Spying on me?” She said in good jest. She accepted a document from him as she sat. “Oh, my, Varric. This is official. As a Viscount are you allowed to do this?”

“What kind of Viscount would I be if I didn’t abuse my position to give shit to my friends? I’ve got traditions to uphold!”

Cole stumbled into their table.

“I can’t drink this!” Cole said with a grimace as he held a mug as if it contained poison.

“I already told you, Cole, spirits in human form can’t handle liquor of any sort.” Varric said to the spirit boy, “I’ll take care of that for you.” 

Cole gladly handed over the mug of ale to Varric. “So kid, meant to ask, you could have chosen the shape of a cat or a dragon so why a human shape?”

“It was the shape that would best help.” Cole responded. Cole looked at Evelyn. “Your hand hurts. A heartbeat. Not yours. Hammering the beat of a song in its final verse. I'm sorry."

She looked blankly at Cole trying to reason out what he said. The Anchor did hurt but she lacked any reference to everything else. “It’s fine, Cole.” 

“You don’t have to make me feel better. That’s what I do. Varric wants to know about Curley.” Cole said.

“No I don’t.” Varric said. 

"I’ll say okay. But I know too.” Cole responded. "Safe and solid, protecting and proud. He feels like quiet, stronger when you hold him."

Out of what seems like no where, Mordine sat at their table. “Inquisitor. Busy? Me too.”

"Mordine! Delighted to see you. What are you doing in the Winter Palace?”

“Work here. Halamshiral. Ancient elven grounds. Find artifacts, frescoes. Hidden treasures. Catalogue. Record lost history. Busy. Always busy.” 

“Did you ever decide if that was a dragon or a titan in that unfinished fresco Solas did?”

“Yes! Both.”

“Well, I asked didn’t I?”

“Yes. You did. I’m around. Ask more. I’ll answer.” As quickly as Mordine came he went.

“Varric, where is Cassandra hiding?” Evelyn asked. 

“Outside the tavern to the right. Patio. She’s there now.”

“Thanks Varric.” Evelyn excused herself and snuck out of the tavern. Down the stairs she found Cassandra standing by the railing looking over the hills of Halamshiril. Cassandra jumped in surprise when she noticed Evelyn standing nearby.

“Oh! Inquisitor!” Wide eye, she was a bit more animated than her usual calm self.

“Is everything all right?” Evelyn asked.

Cassandra looked nervous like she’d been caught stealing cookies. “Yes, well, I wanted to speak with you. And now you’re here.”

She was aware of Cassandra’s odd discomfort. “I could leave and come back later so you can try again.”

“Always with clever suggestions.” Evelyn’s sarcasm seemed to calm her a small bit. “Maybe you should sit.” 

Evelyn replied, “I’m fine.”

"Maybe I should sit.” Cassandra sat on the stairs. “Inquisitor, I want you to know that I am your friend. I will always be your friend.”

“Oh, well, that’s perfect. Because I am your friend, too.” 

Cassandra calmed herself and declared, “I hope to give you sound advice on this momentous day. Do what is in your heart, my friend, no matter what anyone might tell you.”

Evelyn decided she had missed something. “I’m going to leave and come back. I think I missed something.”

Cassandra was exasperated at her fumbling. “I’m talking about marriage.”

“Marriage?” She was shocked. 

Cassandra looked carefully at Evelyn. She decided that something was not right, that the information she was given was inaccurate. “I am going to kill Varric. Why do I believe everything he says? Why?”

“Varric said I was getting married?”

“He mentioned a proposal. I suppose I filled in the blanks. Or he did this on purpose. That dwarf gets entirely too much joy from my discomfort.”

“Maybe there was a proposal.” She confessed just a small bit, for Cassandra’s sake.

Cassandra was greatly relieved. She warmly hugged Evelyn. “Oh! I suspected something. Being Inquisitor has brought you many good things. Take what happiness you can from those, and do not let them go. That is all I meant to say. Advice from a friend, for the days to come.” 

Evelyn was not going to say anything else. Regardless, nothing stays secret in the Inquisition for long.

.

.

“Greetings, Commander Rutherford. How are you?” Mother Giselle welcomed Cullen outside the Bath gardens. 

“Well. Very well. May I have a word with you?” His conduct was gently, quite opposite to when she saw him with his soldiers. As the Inquisition Military Advisor, he commanded respect when he spoke to his soldiers, coming across as authoritative, confident, forceful even. 

“Of course, Commander. How can I help you?

“I’m here to request a Chantry service, and secrecy.”

“I believe I am capable of both. What service can I provide?”

“Marriage. Inquisitor Trevelyn and me.”

Mother Giselle smiled with heartfelt joy. She had observed them for a long time now. She saw them earlier in the garden standing close gazing into each other’s eyes. That the discussion involved marriage made much more sense. “Such happiness you both deserve.”

“We don’t want to distract from the Exalted Council.”

“Of course. Do you have somewhere in mind?”

“Tonight, plaza balcony. It’s quiet, isolated.” 

“The rush?”

Cullen smiled and blushed slightly. “I would have married her two years ago but for the marriage restrictions for mages. We have precedence that while she is not in a Circle restrictions don’t apply.” 

“And if she is sent to a Circle?”

“We’ll be husband and wife.” 

“And you would be happy with that.”

Cullen was solemn in his reply. “I gave my life in service to the Maker. I served in the Circle at Klinloch and Kirkwell, and then the Inquisition. When I fell into darkness, when lyrium withdraws crashed my life, she stood by me. The Chantry teaches that as a husband I give my life in service to a wife. I would not abandon her during a time she may need me more than ever.” 

“You humble me in your faith and your chosen service. As this is last minute, do you have suitable wedding outfits?”

"No. I hope our Inquisition uniform would be appropriate”.

Say no more. The Chantry keeps a few donated outfits. I believe we can find something that will fit close enough. I shall send them discreetly to your room.” 

Cullen’s appreciation was written all over his face. “Thank you, Mother Giselle. We’ll see you at the full of the moon.”

.

. 

Cullen and Evelyn arrived in the traditional white with gold and red trim: Cullen in a jacket and Evelyn a dress. Though borrowed, the attire formalized the ceremony and honored Chantry tradition. 

Mother Giselle greeted them on the balcony. “This is a joyous event. The Chantry’s marriage ceremony is simple, spoken vows to each other. First I offer the blessing of the Andraste and the Maker.” 

While Mother Giselle recited the blessing, Cullen took Evelyn’s hands and whispered to her. “Just know…everything feels like it was worth fighting for.”

“It was.” Her heart tugged and she felt her eyes become misty. She prayed to herself, please make this real, that when I wake tomorrow I shan’t be in a Circle remembering a mage’s sleeping dream. 

Cullen breathed a sigh of contentment that somehow he was actually standing there about to be married. “This is…..” 

Mother Giselle interjected, “This is the part where you make a promise.”

“Oh, right.” Cullen began the serious job of making her his wife. “I swear unto the Maker and the Holy Andraste to love this woman for the rest of my days.”

Still not sure she wasn’t walking deep in the Fade, she replied, “I swear unto the Maker and the Holy Andraste to love this man for the rest of my days.”

Their first kiss as husband and wife reassured her she was standing there with Cullen. If war erupted tomorrow and the Fade threaten to swallow them all, she’d have this moment to hold and remember.

.

(One more section in chapter- under construction)


End file.
